Go ahead...put it on repeat...you know you want to...
This isn´t an entry about my wonderful meal last night in El Borne, or is it about the clothes I found at this great hidden boutique down the street from me. Instead, here´s some mind candy to chew on and save for later…
Crushes are a giant pain in the ass. All the way around. Any way you look at it. If you´re the one crushing, you have to deal with the object of your affection running through your mind all day, thus causing exaggerated clumsiness on your part, more or less accompanied with bouts of nausea at the mention of their name, and just a general sense of forgetfulness as the majority of your brain cells are consumed with the task of dreaming up your future China pattern after the two of you lovebirds get married.
But let´s turn the tables now. Let´s say you’re the recipient of this crushy-crush. Ninja-like instincts are required in order to cope with their most often pathetic puppy dog behavior, preparing yourself to see them at every (and I mean EVERY) corner you turn, the intense longing stare when you walk into a room making you think you have a booger on your face, and the biggest challenge of all, trying to figure out a way to let them know in a subliminal, kind, but indifferent manner that the feelings aren´t reciprocated.
Look, I´m not trying to sound like a bitch, nor am I trying to come off as a heartless cynic. I´m quite the contrary; anyone who has spoken 7 words to me knows that the blubbering commences when I´m exposed to even the slightest hint of romance. But come on…the writing seems to be on the wall here, doesn´t it? It just seems so apparent that we reduce ourselves to less than human creatures when it comes to tender issues of the heart… especially budding affection at that…
There´s just so much unnecessary distress when there´s a crush at hand. Conversation comes about as easily as tap dancing would come to Dick Cheney. And the abundance of bad jokes is positively devastating. Oh but my favorite, really, is the awaked touching of any kind…the accidental nudge of an elbow that sends the crusher into an embarrassed tizzy, the inability to walk side-by-side without one person tripping because someone is too busy getting lost in the other person´s eyes…it´s all so utterly plaintive
The last thing I want to sound like in this entry is a hypocrite. I have had more than my share of awkward moments with the opposite sex as a result of major crushing, so many that my friends have actually created prose from my far from suave interactions, ie “pulling an Em”. I get it. I accept this tendency. I don´t really have a choice; it happens whether I like it or not. But now that I´ve seen it from the other perspective, I really am gonna try and cut the crap and be a little more put together. Because all this just seems like a ridiculous, giant way of beating around the bush.
I do indeed find it hilarious that I´m now taking this oath to change when I know I´ll always be Em, and I´ll always be awkward. But hey, a girl can dream, right? I´ll just be a smooth operator on the INSIDE
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