crush.

I recall stumbling across Ella Fitzgerald’s I’ve Got a Crush on You when Verison had a library of paid ringtones. I attached it to the number of the individual I was dating at the time. It was a hopeful gesture since I enjoyed their company and the time we were spending together. I liked that we met each other in what we were putting in to the other as far as communication was considered. I was emotionally raw from previous experiences in the dating space that made me cautiously optimistic about this turning into a relationship. I liked that this evolved healthy enough to become a relationship. It did not stay that way but that is a different essay.

With Ella’s crone in my mind, I have been reminiscing on crushes that really deserve the noun attached to them. While this relationship did not obtain that accolade, my last lust for a man did. It was not something that I was conscious of at the time. His lack of communication during the summer breaks did hint that moving forward with him would be based on physical access instead a true interest in me- something lacking in the first place. I miss longing for him in some ways. It was nice to have someone to attach my romantic passions on.

When I left the heteronormative dating space for the open-ended yet elusive realm of the LGBTQIA, I was more entranced by the sexual freedom than actually being sexually active in the community. That space made considering sex feel safe and something one can celebrate on the physical plane. I wish I took the same consideration for my emotional state upon entering that freedom to explore sex in a way that is not attached to my eventual status as an adult.

Acquiring and exploring a sexual expression did not ease my longing for people not available to me in some capacity. Being a woman with stronger sapphic leanings, I have been enamored with women that oozed delightful feminine energies that felt like perfumes. I loved them for being themselves and allowing me ot admire them as friends. Speaking about them, people would mourn that I could not make a romantic relationship with them but my demisexual self was not moved by that kind of passion. These women allowed me to reside in their innate supportive behaviors. I did not have to do anything but respond to it and enjoy that I was able to partake in it. Both women had rather difficult relationships they were in and these admissions suggested that their friendship would be better without the complex nature of romantic expectations. Persuing them would have ruined what my crush state offered me.

Both of these women are married now. And both are happy in their relationships. I recall them fondly as being women that embraced me in their own ways. I look upon our time together with affection that is not tarnished with the discomfort of pursuing them for something they gave me for free. It was a crush on their energy and I wanted to emulate that for myself.

I think about that when I think about my life crushes that reside in that space. I have two that stick out in some capacity on similar levels to some degree. I admire these women because of their business successes and travel experiences. I love listening to these individuals comment on their accomplishments and yearn to own those experiences or be able to contribute to those kinds of conversations. I often long to share my experiences with other people to inspire them to acquire the same in some capacity or share the observations I bring back with me.

Crushes are something that saved me in high school. And allowing myself to acknowledge them in my adulthood affords the same level of caution to my romantic space in a way that ignoring that crushes are not something that you outgrow but mature with, gives me the space to take a breath before I jump into a possible relationship that is built on a passing fancy.

At least, that is what I tell myself while I wait for tsunami.