Note: As always, you can follow my journey on my personal blog, So about what I said...
If you’ve been following my self-induced saga over Crush Boy, you probably think I’m so sort of looney love-struck teenager. If you haven’t been privy to this story, allow me to catch you up…
Cliff Notes: Been in love, from afar of course, with Crush Boy for 13+ years, wrote things in my diary like "I can see myself spending the rest of my life with him" and "I KNOW he's my soulmate......" blah, blah, blah. Could never work up the courage to pour my feelings at his feet. Finally got to a point where I was pretty sure nothing would ever happen between us (It's a complicated situation, too). I see him one day over the weekend. He sees me. Me very confused AGAIN.
I am 28, right? And I am a full-grown woman with a job AND a college degree, right?
I had to look at the calendar to double check a few months ago after my newest (and most disastrous) encounter with Crush Boy (and NO, I am not telling you who Crush Boy is; that would defeat the purpose of giving him a code name now wouldn't it?).
It was sadder than a tear-jerking country song and even sadder than a Disney movie, where at least the lady of the hour ends up with the prince, even if it involves fights and evil monsters. Well, let's just say my Disney movie was a rather dark tale of pathetic hoping and re-kindled flames.
So there I am, running into (not literally…I’m not that girl) Crush Boy, which seemed fine at first. We're both adults, I thoughts; Of course I can handle it. Why couldn't I? I'm not that 13-year-old starry-eyed girl who claims it was love at first sight in 1995. We're just two adults, sort of friends, sort of I-don't-know-what, who crossed paths on a random day and can have a civil and friendly conversation together. There's no reason any of it has to be weird in the least - and awkward? What was that? There was no question there would be ANY of that.
Well, tell that to the little 13-year-old I morphed into not two minutes later as he gets out of the car and begins chatting with me. As he spoke, I pretended to listen, but in my head, all I could do was think:
OMG, when did he get even hotter?
He STILL looks like Jake Gyllenhaal
Oh no, he's looking at me.
Stop fidgeting, Melissa
What's he thinking?
Then, my ears picked up a hint of silence. OH GAWD! Was this my cue to say something? His eyes seemed to pierce right through me, and this brought back those all-too-familiar teenage feelings: butterflies in my stomach, my mouth suddenly goes dry, I can't think of a damn witty thing to say.
So what DID I do? The only thing a 13-year-old would do: GIGGLE! YES, I giggled like a schoolgirl because, frankly, that's STILL how I feel around him, a full 13 years later. I have no idea what it is, but I become so unhinged and unglued around him. He still has some sort of power over me, and this, coming from a woman who prides herself on being a staunch feminist who doesn't need any man to make her happy.