Crazy Crush Lady
“That’s why they call them crushes. If they were easy they would call them something else.”
– John Hughes, “Sixteen Candles”
So freaking frustrating!
So I have a crush. I’ve had it for a long time now. I even mentioned this crush a while back in my blog (http://wp.me/pY8MO-ec). He’s my muse-crush. I’ve had full-on, buck-toothed donkey crush on him for…lets just say, forever.
When I met him back in high school (I was in high school, he was not) I was paralyzed by his coolness. I don’t know if I ever even spoke to him. But I wanted to. If only I could have thought of something cool enough to illicit a response from him. Or a kiss, either one would have been fine.
Alas, I never thought of anything cool enough. But I wrote about it in my diary a lot. (Hence the muse bit.)
Then, back when I was reviewing plays as part of my job I saw him again. On stage this time. In one of my favorite plays.
This time I had to talk to him, because I had to interview him about the show. Well my interview skills are amazing so I wasn’t worried about what to say. But in the back of my mind I was hoping that something I asked, or said, would convince him that I was amazing and compel him to find out everything he could about me and then, of course fall in love with me.
Yeah, it didn’t exactly go like that.
I said a few dumb things – because when I’m trying to be amazing I always manage to say something dumb (I like to think of it as part of my charm). Although he did say that he was surprised by my questions.
“They aren’t what I expected them to be.”
“What did you expect them to be?”
Wait, was that a compliment?
I think it was…sort of. (I had to look up the word again to make sure that it meant what I thought it meant. It did.) So compliment? I dunno. I mean he said I wasn’t pedantic. But he had expected me to be. Why had he expected that? Because he thought that’s just how reporters are? Because he thought that was the type of person my newspaper in RC, SD would send? Because he was in RC, SD? Because of the way I was dressed?
Dang, I knew I shouldn’t have worn a pedantic dress to that play opening.
Anyway, compliment or not, seeing him again that night was electric. For me, that is. I don’t know if he felt a thing. Maybe he’s electric so he feels that all the time. Well I was enamored not only of him, but of the theatre he had performed at.
So, I decided to try out for the upcoming show. That my crush was directing. I don’t know if I really wanted to be in the show or if I just wanted to perform for him. Is that bizarre or what? Anyway, I kicked ass at auditions and I honestly thought I had it in the bag, but someone else got the part. I secretly assumed that it was because she was skinnier than me.
But he asked me to be his assistant director. I’m not sure why I said yes. I really wanted to be in a play if I was going to bother with the amount of time involved. But I am a good director and I was definitely capable of assisting, so why not?
Plus, I got to worship him a bit in the meantime. You know, standard stuff. Stare at him when no one is looking. Listen intently to his every word. Write imaginary dialogue between the two of us that was full of things I would never get the nerve to say out loud. Generally day-dream about him deciding I am incredible and fascinating and decide to pursue me mind, body and soul.
You know, normal stuff.
Of course, we really barely interacted. Partially because I wasn’t very bold. Partially because he started sleeping with one of the other girls involved with the production. I guess she was bolder. (She was also skinner. Damn!)
Anyway, the production ended. I ran into him from time to time at the odd community or art event. Or the odd bar. Or a random drive-thru here and there. (Yeah, he worked at several drives-thru in the past few years. Don’t’ judge.) I also heard about him through the grapevine (and my amazing eavesdropping skills) and I found out that he had married that girl from the production. Subsequently, I tried to kill the crush.
I thought I had done pretty well. And maybe I had. I hadn’t seen him for a long time (like a year) when I ran into him at the movies a while back. And, I found out that when I saw him there – sans ring – a couple of months ago it was, indeed, because he was no longer married.
I wasn’t paying attention, so I don’t know how or when it happened, but I must have gotten my hopes up when I realized he was single again. And the crush was back.
If I wasn’t paying attention, how did I realize I had gotten my hopes up you ask?
Well I noticed because last night those hopes (that I was previously unaware of) were thoroughly dashed when I found out that the object of my (silly) affections is dating someone. I guess I really was hoping that he would somehow run into me, we would strike up a conversation, and then a friendship, and then he would fall head over heels for me.
Oh the sentimental places you will go. There’s some fantasy part of my brain that just makes these stories up without regard to probability or consulting the reasonable parts of me. And the result this time is that I feel like I broke up with him and we never even dated!
I mean, it won’t be a hard break-up because, well it was a fantasy relationship.
I’m insane, aren’t I?