Having a crush sucks. I hate every aspect of it. The awkwardness. The not-knowing. The overthinking. Even the word “crush” makes me feel so juvenile. I feel as though I’m back in elementary school, when even standing by someone too close could start rumors. Even if the rumors were complete lies, I, a self-proclaimed awkward gal, would still get flustered if someone asked. I hate when someone asks if there’s anyone of interest in my life, and I have to tell them no, but make a super awkward face because there is, in fact, someone that comes to mind.
The word alone is so vague that no one knows what we’re talking about anymore. For some, a crush is just this person in their one class that made eye contact with once, whereas for others, it’s their best friend that they’ve been madly in love with since grade school. And you know how some words just fit perfectly with their meanings, like “bubbles” and “moist”? “Crush” is at the exact opposite end of that spectrum. The only “crush” part of a “crush” relationship is the fact that I want to “crush” my phone in half after having the most dry conversation of a lifetime, yet still considering ringing them up the next day.
Once your crush is public, that’s a whole other ordeal. Requited or not, the presence of a crush in your life becomes everyone’s business, whether you want it to or not. I’m just trying to figure out what other people think and know about him without seeming like a creep. I’m also gaslighting myself into thinking he actually likes me back and is waiting for a better time to profess his undying love for me. In the meantime, my friend is giving me a waggly brow every time his name comes up in conversation, like some bounty hunter that just got some new intel on their next hit. Good friends will tell you it’s a good idea and to go for it. Best friends will threaten to block you if you ever consider saying his name. Even if I do get over it—like genuinely get over it and nearly forget about it—your friends won’t. Then the cycle repeats. Ugh.
Beyond that, what’s even worse is getting hindsight icks after getting over them. Flip-flops? Seriously? In public? Using the laughing-crying emoji turned on its side? Unironically?? Why didn’t anyone slap some SENSE into me? I must’ve been part of some absolute hypnotic nonsense to look past those details. 🤣…
Last, but certainly not least, the worst part of having a crush is pretending not to know the things you found on some late-night stalking spree. Be honest. You’ve done it. And you learned something. But there would be no reasonable explanation for you to know that information UNLESS you had engaged in some totally-not-creepy stalker stuff. (Shout-out to their mom’s Facebook page.)
Maybe I’m just sick of being single, and I’m in denial. Maybe I’m just giving out excuses instead of putting myself out there. Maybe I’ve spent too much time worrying about what someone else might think of me instead of worrying about what I think of myself. Am I worthy of respect? Do I think I’m a kind human being? Have I been a good friend? What more can I do to help others?
The very fact that I’m writing this probably means I’m in over my head. Maybe I should just flee the country. Or at least the state. Or my dorm. I’m going to need eight hours of sleep, some fresh air and to touch some grass after convincing myself that that man was worth brain space and a fraction of my lifespan.
