My Leo fantasies, revealed.

The other day, I told you about a friend of mine who had an unhealthy obsession with Jonathan Taylor Thomas.

Well, today, I'm going to tell you about my teenage love for Leonardo DiCaprio.



In 1997, Leo was a raging heartthrob. For some of you younger readers, who only know the creepy, slightly stocky Leonardo from today, I know this is hard to believe. But trust me, the guy was a stone-cold fox.

I couldn't even watch my worn-out VHS of Romeo + Juliet without heaving a heavy sigh of love.



When I was in eighth grade, I would have extremely vivid fantasies involving Leonardo.

I would be sitting in math class, and then all of the sudden Leo would appear, wearing a loose button down white cotton shirt and snug, slightly faded blue jeans.

"Come away with me, now," he would demand, staring intensely at me with his striking blue eyes.

Flustered, I would look around.

"But I'm in math class right now," I would protest.

"I don't care," he would say, dramatically, sweeping me off my feet. "I'm in love with you!"

The envy I envisioned on my female classmates' faces was always priceless.

And with one tilt of my head, we would kiss, right in front of my entire math class.

And then I would repeat this fantasy in history class, gym, and sometimes randomly at the grocery store.



These fantasies consumed me. I was feverishly in love. If I saw a tabloid that would even suggest Leo had a girlfriend, I would then fantasize about stuffing carrots up her nose and smearing peanut butter in her hair. And then Leo and I would share a hearty laugh over my jealous fit and skip off into the sunset, hand in hand.



The difference between me and Candy, however, is that I never told anyone about my fantasies.

In fact, I kept my passion for Leo hidden, out of shame.

If one of my friends even brought him up, I would jump out of my skin and stutter, "What Leo-who-I mean, what, of course I know who he is, but ew so not my type, I mean god, please." And then I would turn beet red and change the subject to the latest Spice Girls song or something.

But it finally got to the point where I couldn't keep my love a secret anymore.



Titanic came out in theaters.

I saw it on opening day with my parents.

After we exited the theater, I started uncontrollably sobbing.

My dad was surprised.

"Are you crying because it was a sad movie?" he asked, perplexed.

"No," I sobbed back. "I'm crying because Leonardo DiCaprio doesn't know who I am!"

And there it was.