in which I follow a trend and talk crushes

I didn't realize that I'd never had a crush until I had what I would refer to as a 'real one.' As a preteen/early teen, I'd see my preference of one boy over the other as a crush but now I would describe that as an inclination or desperate attempt at normalcy. Then came a boy-less mid-teen period. Cue fantasy relationships projected on one rare commonly reoccurring boy figure. And then comes the start of my job last September, wherein coworker relationships with teen boys ensue and I am left somewhat dejected at the sorely lacking (in my eyes) apparent sample of my male peers.

And here's where the cliches kick in because I didn't realize what I'd been missing until it smacked me in the face and suddenly I was smiling at the thought of him and swooning over things that weren't just his hair. I was crazy in like, not with his hottness but with his very person and how I felt around him and how he seemed to care about me and like me as well. It was strange, too, because I was completely and utterly aware of how absurd I was being. My giddiness was consciously acknowledged and accepted--hell, embraced. It felt really good. If nothing else, I'm glad of the journal entries and memories I have from those weeks of self-indulgent crushing.

Now is the time to note the past tense and think, "What happened?" And I'll indulge you with that question because it's relatively simple: reality. Reality happened.

You see, it's not enough to be a romantic 17-year-old girl who reads too much and wishes she was a character in one of her favourite novels; that same girl has to be somewhat delusional when it comes to real-life relationships and those delusions have to eventually crash down around her.

That might be a tad dramatic. It was a bit lower key, perhaps, than delusions crashing down around me. I mean, I won't lie; there was in-car-with-friends-driving-to-Dairy-Queen-ranting. There was confusion and disappointment and hurt. Maybe a little anger. Understanding. Acceptance.

But it was a good experience. Something to write about. Something to angst over. Another chapter in my story. The trouble is that being friends with this person has recently been very difficult for me due to the small fact that he won't respond to my emails and doesn't seem to want anything to do with me despite the fact that six weeks ago he wrote that he loved being around me and wanted to know everything about me, even the insignificant things.

So I think I'll just do what I normally do in these situations which is write an honest letter which I may or may not send with my guts spilled all over it and go from there. And then maybe I'll look for the next boy I feel I can get emotionally attached to and wait until he one day deserts me.

I. Am. So. Dramatic.

p.s. Life update: This week has been good. I bought a capo and a dress that I then altered. I also slept on a trampoline in someone else's sleeping bag which was fun. And just tonight, I saw a free production of As You Like It in a park, which was thoroughly enjoyable. Tomorrow is the book club I am hosting and Saturday and Sunday, I am working. Then, because it's not exciting enough yet, I'm going to be watching all the Star Wars movies for the first time in a suicide marathon.
p.p.s.  Beware: I'm planning a cross-continent road trip with my sisters next year and want to visit you both. You've been warned. (probably taking place in late spring-early summer period.) And yes, I am for real.