So, Avah is a goddess. She totally was able to find the post that was an was not on her bloglines, so I did *not* lose my post on crushes!
Avah, I love you times infinity.

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Blah. If this doesn’t turn out as well as I’d like it should blame the Internet. I had a great intro, and then Mozilla decided it had an error and needed to shut down, while blogger decided it didn’t really save what I wrote.

Jefferson and I had a great conversation on crushes. It came up, of course, due to my massive crush on Annabel. I got all weepy. *sigh* More on that in a bit.

I love a good crush. Really! They’re sweet, and harmless, and fun, and all sorts of good things, and in all sorts of different varieties. How can you not love ‘em?

Half the time, in my life, they aren’t even that big of a deal. I have a crush on someone – so what? I may say something, I may not, I may flirt with ‘em, I may fuck ‘em, I may date ‘em, its all good.

The fun comes from the crush itself, the way it makes you feel and act. The crush is almost selfish. How often does the crushee even know about the crush?

But its usually all good. For me, crushes are harmless fun.

Like the heterosexual crush. I borrowed the term from a straight male friend who had, what he called, a heterosexual crush on Sam Waterson (Jack McCoy, of Law and Order) I’ve noticed the hetero-crush tends to be gender specific. I hetero-crush on women. My gentlemen friend hetero-crushed on men.

The hetero crush is less romance and sex, and more respect and admiration. Its like a crush, but, in more of an “OMFG that person is so awesome! I think they’re great! I want to hang out with them and be friends!” as opposed to the kind of crush where you want to send them mix tapes (I think the modern equivalent to the mix tape is the iTunes play list. “I made you this play list to express to you how I feel. Hang on, let me download it to your iPod”)

For example, I totally hetero-crush on Miss Viviane. She’s awesome. I want to sit at her feet and learn. (And since you totally rock, while I’m sitting at your feet, you can also use me as a footstool. However, I make a terrible table. I fidget way to much.)

Then there’s what I call the 14 year old girl crush. The kind that makes you turn into a prepubescent girl. These are my favourites.

In high school, when I was 17, I had a crush like this on my friend’s stepbrother, who was in my creative writing class. Lets call him….damn. He’s a hard one to pick a name for, really. I’ll have to go with Aldous even though I’m not pleased with it. (Ten bucks says I start typing Albus eventually!)

I’d come up with excuses to talk to him, like showing him pictures of my new kitten, or asking him to buy me cigarettes, because I was underage at the time. If we had to read our writing out loud, I’d try to write something that would get his attention. (We were both poets.) My friends used to say his name around me just to get me to giggle.

Since I had finally grown balls, and was totally hot, when the Theater Guild got around to their Valentines Day fundraiser, which was delivering ‘Secret Valentines’ for a dollar donation, I signed up, and wrote him one.That was the first time I ever asked a boy out. Nothing came of it, romantically, but I consider him a friend now. Aldous was really nice about it, too. He’s a good guy, and yet another one of my friend who ran off to the west coast to study god knows what. Existential-Phenomenological Psychology, which I don’t quite understand, but hell, he’s an evil genius. I think it involves various drugs, of the psychotropic nature. Heh. I wonder if he reads this. I hope so. *waves*

Then we have the almost 14 year old girl crush.The sort where, I dig someone, don’t want to date them, but still get all 14 year old girl.

The almost 14 year old girl crush is characterized by swinging between uber confident, and well…feeling like an inexperienced teenager.

Like with Sebastian. The day I met him, I got to strap on and play with his butt. How could I not get all swoony over that?

When we first got each others numbers, I girly angsted for days over if I should text him or not.Hell, I still do that.Who are we kidding? When I get a text from him, I grin like an idiot, and giggle, and I’m all ‘OMG, I don’t want to look at it…but I do! Yay! He wants to play!’

But I won’t be asking him out anytime soon. I fancy him. I think he’s a sweet guy. I ADORE playing with him. I’ll just be giggling when I text him, and enjoying how utterly naughty I can be when confident. He’s totally not the type of guy I date. At least, not since I left high school.

Of course, there are the unrequited crushes too.First, of course, the famous person crush. Like the one I have on Mika. Goddamn, do I want that boy. Will I get him? Probably not. Will I get all girly and excited whenever I see/hear anything about him? Hell yeah!

I squeaked, actually squeaked, when OUT magazine came in the mail at work, and he was on the cover. I have one of the photos on my wall.

Will I still crush on him? Of course! Why wouldn’t I? Sure, I have absolutely no chance. Sure, he’ll probably never even know I actually exist. So what?

A crush like that is even rather mutually beneficial. I get the enjoyment of looking at Mika, fantasizing about him, listening to his music, seeing his videos and concerts, and all of that. He gets a loyal fan who purchases his music and concert tickets, listens to his message, and feeding energy toward him.

Like the crush you had on that boy band. You know, the one that was popular when you were that age. (For me, it was the New Kids on the Block. I admit it. I wrote them fan mail.)

But then, then there’s the worst crush.

The secret crush.

The one that’s really more than a crush.

The one on someone you know, that you really really like. But for whatever reason, they don’t know, and you don’t tell.

I think the lack of telling really comes down to a fear of rejection.

Sometimes, you just don’t want to deal with hearing the platitudes.

With Annabel, its even more than that. I won’t be hearing ‘Oh, but I only think of you as a friend’. Its not a matter of not being the right ‘type’ or whatever. I just don’t have the right bits.

That’s what upsets me more than anything. I don’t have the right bits, so I don’t even get a chance.I’ve never had to deal with this before. I was never the type to fall for someone I had absolutely no chance with. I never fell for gay men or straight girls. I don’t know why or how I managed that, but I did.

Its frustrating that, of all the people I know and see and meet these days, I fall, and fall hard, for one of the few straight girls.

I’m going through my gay existential teen angst about 8 years too late.