You know that line from Taylor Swift’s “Blank Space” that goes “Got a long list of ex-lovers, they’ll tell you I’m insane?” I can’t help but think of that line and applying it to my own life. Although I’ve dived into my perspectives on past relationships on this blog, I learned just as much, if not more, from the many crushes I had growing up.
I had my first crush around the time I went through the hell they call middle school, back in New Jersey (which is referred to as Hell for anyone not from New Jersey). It’s a normal thing, given the circumstances of having a small class of 20 students (more or less) and raging hormones. Harry and I were friends since kindergarten and he was really cute. As cute as sixth grade boys can get, anyway. I was kind of a drama queen back in the day, so the fact that he didn’t like me back didn’t matter one bit. You can already see the problem here. I was more into the idea of having a crush and didn’t see Harry as a person. It took me moving across the country for me to finally get over him.
Most girls have their boy crazy phase in high school, but at that point, I had my boyfriends and was completely loyal to them. No, my “boy crazy” phase didn’t happen until I started college. I had a crush on a different guy almost every year during my college days. During my first year, I crushed on a poli-sci guy we’ll call Simon after seeing him in a dream. We weren’t close friends and When I told him about how I felt (through a Facebook message), he said that he didn’t think we were compatible. A year later, after breaking up with John, I had what I call a “rebound crush” on Wesley, a friend who was kind of born in the wrong century. I never told him how I felt, though, because we didn’t have that much in common.
The last year of college left me no time for crushes, although I did see Harry during a trip back to New Jersey. To my surprise, in spite of the years apart, I still found him attractive and desirable. But he mentioned that he had a girlfriend and I kept a good face, even though inside I felt sad that he was taken. If it wasn’t for the fact that there were people around, I might’ve acted on impulse and kissed him. Thank God I didn’t.
After spending a year recovering from Angel’s emotional manipulation and another year finding my voice, crushing on a new guy was the last thing on my mind. Sure, there were Loki, the Doctor, Spike, and the actors who played these characters, but these crushes were safe. Fictional characters were just that. Fictional. And I knew better than to think I had a chance with these out-of-reach actors. And since I was discerning religious life, I was very sure that I would never crush on a real guy ever again.
But you know what they say. Man makes plans, God laughs.
It started one summer day when I was hanging out with my friends. Some friends of my friends that I didn’t really know were also there. One particular friend of a friend stood out to me. Since I know my friends read this blog, we’ll call him Rory. We found ourselves making small talk and amidst the conversation, I start noticing that he’s cute. Next thing you know, I started feeling that familiar flutter in my heart and got scared. Once I found myself alone, I looked up at God and shouted “WHAT THE #&$%?!”
I figured that the crush would go away. It didn’t. Sometimes, I wanted more, not appreciating what I already had. Sometimes, I lost my patience. And sometimes I felt like I was losing my sanity. It was this cycle of happy thoughts followed by anxiety followed by despair and then some kind of hope would rise out of the ashes. Throughout all of this, I kept asking God to hold my heart. And He still is.
I know they always say that every crush is a whole new experience. In spite of my boy crazy college years, this particular crush feels all new to me. I don’t feel like I’m being blinded by infatuation. I’m more focused on being Rory’s friend. Most of all, I’m leaving the outcome in God’s hands. I’m actually looking forward to Lent because I want some emotional distance. In a sense, I am giving up this crush for Lent to focus more on what God wants from me.
But I bet you’re wondering: Does Rory know about all this? Of course not! I would be writing a very different blog post otherwise. So will he ever know?
I’ll never tell.