Dec 12, 2012, 04:31AM

It's Time To Forget Mr. Robinson

Dear Abby/Katie take on unrequited love.

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The following question was taken from an actual advice column. For the original, click here.

DEAR ABBY: I’m a male who has graduated from high school and is about to start college in another state. I’m ready for a new challenge. The only thing holding me back is a romantic attraction I have toward one of my high school teachers.

He and I are best friends, but I love him more than as a friend. I have bought him many meals and gifts since he taught me, and I have found every opportunity available to be with him. I’m not sure if he’s aware of my feelings, although I wonder whether I unconsciously make myself obvious. Regardless, we have a great relationship. It kills me inside to know I can never be with him.

I have never told anyone how I feel, and I know if I ever told him, it would destroy everything we have. I can’t forget about him. He’s on my mind constantly. Having to leave him soon is killing me. Do you have any advice for me? — DREADING IT IN LOUISIANA

Dear Dreading It in Louisiana,

I feel for you DIIL, I really do. I remember what it’s like to be in high school and in love with someone you can never be with, although in my case it wasn’t a teacher—if my teachers do remember me, it’s as the girl who brought a “doctor’s note” saying she had narcolepsy written on Hello Kitty letterhead. Rather, I was in love with dreadlocked singer/songwriter Ani DiFranco, which was my most shameful secret until I just revealed it on the Internet. DIIL, I’m going to give you the same advice my friends give me when I worry about that FBI is going to start dressing up like Mormon missionaries and use our sympathy and good will to get into our homes and steal our weed: you need to get laid. Sadly, I live in a town that is so coupled that the only way to be a slut is to find a straight couple trying to spice up their marriage. You, however, are about to enter the sluttiest years of your life: college. So get ready, DIIL. After fall semester and a couple of STI scares, you’ll forget all about Mr. Robinson.


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