“That’s why they call them crushes. If they were easy, they’d call them something else.” – Sixteen Candles
In my twenty years I’ve swooned over plenty of guys, real and fictional alike. Whether they be classmates, the random guy at the mall, or well Ryan Gosling. But I can only recollect four full-fledged crushes, now ex-crushes. And since I am not as lyrical or musically inclined as Miss Taylor Swift, I have opted to write an open letter to them rather than a song for them.
Number one: the grade-school guy
You were my first crush. I remember the moment elementary school me became enamored with you like it was yesterday. We took the bus together, you were sitting in the seat in front of me. Kids were trading cards, some fad of the time. An older kid took one of mine. I sat there eyes watering when you stood up and demanded he gave it back. In that moment the sky parted above you, a golden halo glowed around your head, I was a goner. I think you knew it, I think everyone did.
Number two: the middle-school mess
I told you I liked you. Somehow awkward tom-boy middle-school me mustered up the courage. Sure I may have sputtered it out quickly and without elegance, but I said it. You never replied.
Number three: the freshman-year flop
I’m not sure if I ever really liked you, or if I liked the idea that someone liked me. I know it sounds shallow, but the idea of being loved speaks to my deepest insecurities. You were my first kiss and my first romantic regret.
Number four: he-who-must-not-be-named
No one ever knew about you. You weren’t a giggled conversation at a sleepover or a fantasy shared with friends. I’m glad it stayed that way.
All of these crushes have ended, in one way or another.
But sometimes, if you’re lucky the crush never ends and instead turns into something more. Here’s my letter to my fifth crush, the one that’s still around.
Number five: the boyfriend
Thank you for proving that it’s worth it. For proving that having a crush, does not always end in being crushed.
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