Finally … and I do NOT

Finally after waiting for what feels like forever (it’s only been 5 months, but still!) I finally have a date I can move into my new home! The place was finished being built late November/early December … but then Christmas and New Year happened and I was stuck in a limbo waiting for a date of settlement.

And … *drum roll* … February 2nd is the big day! I am so excited I squealed when I received the text message from my dad confirming the date. And I never squeal! I’ve never been a girly girl, but I gave the girliest squeal ever! My very own place, my very own fresh start.

I can actually hand in my notice of intent to leave to my estate agent and tell them to stick it up their arses. Well not literally, I want my deposit back! But in my head that’s what I’ll be saying: A great big eff you!

Just the thought of having my very own home makes me want to squeal all over again! But it’s 12.19am, squealing is not an appropriate thing to do when I live in very close proximity to my neighbours (block of townhouses makes for less privacy).

At least this move will give me something to focus on other than something that has slowly been creeping up on my mind and taking permanent residence. An idea that has been growing the more I try to suppress and ignore it. Something I don’t even want to acknowledge because if I admit it to myself then it becomes real. And I really, really, don’t want this thought to manifest itself into reality. I don’t have time, energy, or desire to make the idea a reality.

I fear that I am developing a crush on someone. And I really don’t want to have a crush on him. It’s not something that would go anywhere, it couldn’t go anywhere. And I don’t even want to consider it going anywhere. But the less I feed it – the more it fricking grows. I swear it’s consuming my mind at the most inappropriate times of the day – when I am supposed to be talking to customers at work, or trying to sleep at night (like now).

I’m projecting, this is what it has to be. I’m subconsciously lonely and longing for someone, and so I’m projecting a crush on a specific guy. I must be talking myself into thinking I have a crush (on him in particular) for 2 reasons: he is there in my everyday life and we get along really well. But I know, I know that we are only meant to be friends. I only want to be friends. I logically couldn’t be interested in this person. It just cannot happen. It will not happen. I will not allow it to happen.

I cannot, do not, will not, have a silly crush on a guy I work with who is almost 10 years younger than me. It’s all in my head, and it’s not true. Not even a little bit. Not at all. Never a crush. Never on him.

Never in a million years.

Another Failed Romantic Tale.

Time for another flash back, another failed romantic endeavour.

It was 1996, I was in the tenth grade and his name was Ben. He was tall, dark haired, with soft doe eyes, and he had this gorgeous smile where one corner of his mouth curved up higher. He was a little bit bad boy and that was really attractive to me – the Miss Goody-Two-Shoes. Of course this is a private school version of bad boy – what made him an undesirable (not to me, but to my cliquey school friends) was that he had to repeat year 10 and wasn’t of the same “social class”. Some people in my school were very much snobs it seems.

Anyway, he was in my homeroom; and we had our main classes together. Before too long I found myself totally into him, and it turns out that he was into me too. Of course he couldn’t just outright say it, instead he teased me mercilessly (you know all attention; even bad attention; is good attention). And of course my reaction was an overreaction because I was so into him I couldn’t help but react.

Eventually one of my friends (not one of the snobs) had enough of Ben and I circling one another. She (without my knowledge to all of this) outright asked him if he liked me, and he admitted as much. She told him to ask me out, and he said he would if he got me alone. So right before one of our elective classes; she drags me over to him under some pretence and then takes off. I’m left alone with him.

We’re both standing there awkwardly; trying desperately to make small talk, until one of us has the courage to make a move. Right at the last second I am the one to cave. I ask him out and he says yes and tells me that he was gathering up the courage to ask me out. We share a shy smile before we head off to our classes. I’m uncharacteristically a little late to my class; but I have the biggest grin on my face.

Now here is the totally awkward and fail bit. Even though I had asked him out – and he had said yes – I still couldn’t believe that he actually liked me. I had very low self-esteem, and even when faced with evidence to the contrary – I was convinced that this was all some joke on me. I was terrified that he didn’t really like me; and that somehow it was a practical joke, like out of CarrieAnd so I became really shy, and aloof, and practically stopped talking to him – where before I’d done every little thing I could to get his attention. It was like I didn’t know what to do now that I’d had him. He got the impression I wasn’t into him, and the relationship was dust before it even got off the ground.

He resorted to being unpleasant towards me at lunch times; staring at me and calling out mean things when he was in his group of 11th grade friends. I took to ignoring him in class, and acting like he didn’t even exist. Our friendship had disintegrated because I didn’t know how to show him I liked him, and he thought that I wasn’t actually interested in him.

Then one day, one lunch time, he came up to me. He’s mustered up the courage to apologise to me, it’s awkward and adorable all at once. He says he’d like to start over, which of course stupid oblivious me somehow misinterprets. I say to him “Ok, so we’re friends again yeah?” and hold out my hand. Poor Ben has been unwittingly rejected, and limply shakes my hand with a dejected “Yeah, I guess…” and turns on his heel.

Suffice to say we never really talk again after that one. And for the rest of the year, and into the next (until he left the school mid way through the 11th grade) he’d always give me this strange look in the halls. At the time I thought he was staring me down to make me intimidated and uncomfortable – as if he was trying to tell me I was an idiot for thinking he ever liked me. But looking back with experience, I think his face showed something more like a forlorn wanting. I was unable to interpret back then that his expression reflected the disappointment of his belief that his feelings were unrequited. And my suspicious, self-preserving glares back at him really wouldn’t have helped the situation.

So now it’s time for another apology to another guy.

Ben, I’m sorry I couldn’t show you that I really was into you. I had pages and pages of diary entries filled about you, and had a major crush on you for a long time. However I was naive and unsure of myself. So I did the only thing I know how to do – shut down, and hide my feelings. I wish I’d been more confident – because now I’ll never know what your kisses taste like.