I Have a Crush on You (But Not Really)
I am a fan of liminal spaces. That transfer of ownership or the growth stage in journey novels always gets me. I like to know how you made the journey from A to B. It is why I like cooking. It is low key amazing to me.
When I entered this waiting for the one process, being a nun really resonated. Where else can you prepare for the one and keep yourself away from temptation? Alas, that practice is riddled with problems like any education system. And I am not Catholic and poor. So what is the best option for me when hormones like other people do not fuel me?
I love a good crush. I like the selection process and determining what aspects of that person made them worthy of my distant adoration. I started this practice in middle school and perfected it in… well nowhere. It would not work in college as there was no one to hold me back from doing things but me.
But it started with Paris, I think. He was in my English class. I think it was his name that I found nice. He was a chocolate brown individual and I liked his haircut. I think it was a while to get into pining for him as I only saw him in this class and I actually liked the course. So it was easy to pine in secret while everyone around me talked about the girls getting pregnant in the trashy school a few miles away. Add to that the fear campaign of STDs and I was okay keeping away from the boy craze. What really bothered me was the puberty training.
I recall it was the late 90s and the tapes were from the 60s. I remain perplexed at how the information given was left to the videos and the adults would just shy away from the topic. It bothered me. It also made me jealous of being a boy as their evolution seemed really simple. Not enough to look into transitioning, however. I still love a full skirt and wedges in the spring.
But middle school is a special hell. I don’t think I had another crush of substance until I entered high school and met Trevor. He was the popular male all the women wanted. And I got into the fawning of it all. I stan for some teenage idol worship. It is a safe place to explore what kind of relationship you want in the future. And for me, it was not Trevor but I played along. That worked until my best friend came along. She had a boyfriend by the end of 10th grade but we spent time with the daughter of my mother’s friend before then and I invited Trevor.
I don’t know how I managed that actually. I know it was easy since it was for a friend and not myself. Call me a little matchmaker I guess. Well, they ended up getting pregnant before the 12th grade so I had to go on to another crush, Author.
Author was short, muscled, and caramel toned. It was hot. I enjoyed talking to him and he was rather nice. But it was not enough to make a move. He was just really cool. He had good energy. He was comfortable to be around but not fun on the phone. Ira was.
Not to fat shame but Ira was a fantastic individual to torture. He was rather rotund and ticklish as all get out. He would jiggle like the Pilsbury doughboy and he would stay on the phone for hours listening to me run my mouth. Never wanted him either. But I loved to get the other girls to join me in chasing him around the halls tickling him senseless.
I was deliciously mean to him now that I think about it.
His friends thought I should have sex with him as that was the exchange. Le sigh.
On to the next.
I think after my 11th year the idea of a crush was more an obligation than a pleasure. I recall saying I need to find someone to crush on and selected Clayton. He was mild enough and not in my courses so there was no way to see him regularly. It was a win for me. I went through the last year happy and tired of being in school. I wish someone had suggested getting a GED and hitting the local community college for a year before the four year college and degree. That would have saved my GPA.
Clayton and I never spoke. I ran into someone that wanted him at prom and we had a quick trauma bond and carried on. His date was kind of nice about the experience. I am sure it went to her head a bit. Ah, people are idiots.
Will was my last crush. I still know it was nice to have a metrosexual ish guy who had the numbers I wanted. But he had the worst friends. And that says a lot about him and his real motivations. Like he would punch a person if they questioned his sexuality. And the lack of body autonomy was another thing. But the thing that made it really stay in the fantasy realm was how he was not into me as much as I was into him. He liked that I liked him. It was not mutual. He would take advantage of the opportunity but it would not be his calling like his last girlfriend. I don’t miss crushing on him. He crystalized my shift to masculine of center women. There was something there I needed. A beautiful blend of masculinity. A person that delighted in being themselves. Like Prince.
Prince could get it.