Hello. My name is Anxious, and I am staring at you with hearts in my eyes and butterflies in my stomach. You’re the current love of my life, and the mere thought that I may or may not be hopelessly infatuated with you has kept me awake for the last three weeks. I have analyzed our every interaction, documented everything I know about you (from the color of your eyes to the tones of your voice), and tucked away in one of my many notebooks is a pro-con list dedicated solely to the highly unlikely chance that we ever become an item.
Crushing on you is one of the hardest challenges I will face.
You see, for as long as I can remember, I’ve fallen in love like a sickness. Every crush I’ve ever had has festered in the darkest corners of my brain, spreading throughout my body like a virus and corrupting the entire system. The symptoms are the same every time: shortness of breath, heart palpitations, fluttering eyelids, sweaty palms, an unbearable sense of dread. My motions become clumsier, my tongue ties easier, and any eloquence I have goes out the window. It’s been that way forever, and you, my dear, are no exception.
On the day it started, you barged into my brain, kicking down the door and making yourself comfortable despite my feeble protests. Lounging around my mind in your well-fitting shirt and precious smile – I mean really, just who the hell do you think you are? Were you raised by wolves? Don’t you know it’s rude to just pluck up someone’s heart like this? You’ve got some nerve, running through my thoughts like you own the joint, leaving behind trails of “what did he mean by that?” and ugly giggling wherever you go. It’s not fair. You’re not even that cute to begin with.
(But you are, and I really hate you for it.)
And the feelings come in waves. For agonizing periods of time, I oscillate between the sweet release of freedom and the crushing realization that I may be in love with you for the rest of my life. You remain blissfully unaware, and I do my best not to make a complete fool of myself when we’re together, and for a while things feel like they’re working. I am happy to just be around you, clinging desperately to my simple feelings and hoping that they’re enough to get me through the storm raging in that god-awful organ beating in my chest.
And it is enough. It is enough until it isn’t, and I spend my nights wide-awake, feeling like a sad tumblr blog because you are stuck on repeat in my head. Slowly and painfully, I come to the realization that no, you will never love me back. And no, our late-night rendezvous and lazy afternoon walks will never come to fruition. And oh my god, maybe I’m going to end up dying alone after all.
Eventually, after many moons have passed, and many love letters have been written and shredded, I will slowly shed my simple feelings and evict you from my thoughts. And for the first time in months, I will be able to breathe easily…just in time to catch the eye of this year’s Mr. Right.
Featured photo credit: Crush Soda Pop Beverage soft drink. Grape Crush, Orange Crush and Strawberry Crush 5/2014 glass at Walmart Stores. Pics by Mike Mozart if TheToyChannel and JeepersMedia on YouTube. #Crush #OrangeCrush #GrapeCrush #StrawberryCrush #CrushPop #CrushSoda via photopin (license)
About the Author (Author Profile)The brash speaking voice of a sea-hardened sailor and the softness of a velvet child. Two types of Brown and constantly talking about it. Catch me knitting in the sun and talking about social injustice/horror movie plot holes.
Sites That Link to this Post
- Love Letter from the Edge of Reason - Culture Shock : Culture Shock | March 28, 2017