Crushes

Having a crush on someone is so fun yet so fucking terrifying. 

I pride myself in being ultra independent and free-spirited. I’m comfortable doing everything alone. I go out to eat alone, the movies alone, concerts alone. I live alone. I genuinely love being alone. 

But the moment I start liking someone, that part of me just flies out the door and ceases to exist. And suddenly my emotions become a slave to their actions. 

When they text me, my entire body and soul lights up, my ego and heart being fed an energy so expansive, it could probably fuel the entirety of Times Square. I mean, of course I wouldn’t. Because Times Square sucks. (Elmo triggers my fight or flight now, thanks). But just saying, theoretically, that’s how much a sweeet little message from my crush could light me up inside. Embarrassingly.

And let’s say, they don’t text me. Let’s say they don’t give me attention for a few hours. Anxiety! Panic! Eating me alive. Deteriorating as a person. Diminishing into a shell of who I once was. My energy drops. I drop. Onto my couch where I’ll decay as my hand clutches onto my last bit of hope. My phone. Ready to feel the exact vibration my phone sends when it’s their message. The vibrations are different ok! Text vibrations are slightly lighter than email vibrations. Anyways, I’m hoping it’s not another dumb notification from Mercari. Seller dropped their price on an item in my “Loves”? Couldn’t give less of a shit! Or an email from that overpriced supplement company that I signed up to receive newsletters from in order to receive that 10% off Welcome Discount and haven’t shopped from since. 

And if the notification does end up being one of those ads. That’s when my entire body fills with anger which is then rightfully directed toward verbally assaulting the company. In my head obviously! Omg do nottt associate me with the adult children throwing fits at your local department store. 

Ugh! Crushes! They force me to revert back to my insecure middle school self against my will. I repeat. Against my will! I don’t ever EVER base my worth off of other people’s actions, but SIKE! Now I guess I am?? 

I’m in hell. But also heaven.

I’ll admit that nothing motivates me quite like a crush. Does that qualify me as a romantic? 

Hopping out of bed in the morning to progress the plot of this fling, running to the gym for obvious reasons I won’t say out loud because it’ll sound problematic and not body positive, finding the inspiration to write again, pulling myself together, working harder so I can show up as the best and most confident version of myself. Unfortunately, the self-help gurus are right. The better I take care of myself, the more I like myself. 

When I don’t have a crush, I might be more…at peace, unbothered and comfortable. But…maybe a little toooo comfortable. Always maintaining my peace by never pushing myself out of my comfort zone. Feeling okay with living out my days in my apartment, not seeing anyone, not getting myself ready for the day, doing nothing. 

I mean of course I still do shit and motivate myself when I don’t have a crush. But the thought of doing it for someone else too makes me try a little harder. Ugh wow! So generous so selfless! 

See? I can totally be a good “lover”? (Ew is there a term that sounds less dumb) when I want to be. It just has to be for the right person. I’m selective as fuck (unpretentiously except maybe slightly) and hardly ever get crushes on anyone. So when I do, my brain’s like AH! Rare! Must and will do anything to have them! This one specifically! Because there’s literally no one else! So it’s now or never!

I don’t know, life is just so much more exciting when it’s a little flirty and fun. I write a whole lot about depression and how sometimes I couldn’t give less of a shit about being here. But this is the kind of life I wouldn’t want to leave. 

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