• The Crush That’s Cruching Me

    by  • July 21, 2011 • * Safe for Work *, Love - Pure and Simple • 0 Comments

    Dear “J”,

    I see you. I see the way your eyes are. They’re exposing your good heart, and fun nature. A light jungle green, with a small portion dedicated to an oh-so bright brown, which ignites something inside me, something which begs for you to freeze in time, just so I could lose myself. I’m afraid of making eye-contact. It makes me nervous, I blush, I stutter, and it’s embarrassing, but when I looked into yours, everything faded, it was like I was trapped in a love song. Even though I blushed, I didn’t mess up, and I was myself. I was Sam.

    You know me. We ride the bus. Everyday we laugh together, we’ve sang love songs, we’ve intimately hugged. You know practically everything there is to know about me, but do you know that I’m in love with you? I think it’s obvious. I’ve been spotted by every girl on the bus, and attacked by their accusations, and I’ve denied it all.

    They said you stare at me. They say when you stare, your pupils are big, wide, taking up your entire eye. I pray this is true, because every night, thoughts of you put me to sleep. I could have the sexiest man alive like me, but I’d reject him for you.

    Remember Jenny? When you revealed you liked her? I gave you a fake smile, could you tell? I told you to chase after her, even though it killed me. I was screaming to myself, “Someone shoot me!” and I wanted to cry. I pretended to be upset or your sake when she publicly humiliated you by saying no. That’s what you get for liking the prep. You weren’t discouraged, you went on to beg her for a chance, but you weren’t given the time of day.

    You’re beautiful. Not only are you incredibly attractive, but you’ve got an award winning personality. You’re funny and sweet, everything a girl could ever want. Also to my dismay, though, other girls actually DO want you. I just hope I’m the lucky one.

    I’m not trying to be self-righteous, but I’m the one for you. We absolutely belong together. You’ve admitted that you “don’t like Taylor Swift”, But after I said she was my favorite singer, you miraculously came to school singing “You Belong With Me” as if you memorized the whole song. We sang together. I don’t think if you don’t like a music artist, you learn a song from them. I’m praying it was a sign that you like me back? I don’t want to get all Helga Pataki on you, but I’m unquestionably in love with you, but I’m terrified of the possibility my feelings are unrequited, so I don’t say anything, I don’t want to lose our friendship. I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want to be mocked.
    Sure, Jenny is the image of perfection, she’s got straight hair, perfect teeth, itty bitty waist, everything, but she’s as shallow as a wading pool. If you take her outside in the rain, her face will melt…why? Because she’s as fake as the Easter bunny. Take me out in the rain? I’ll dance with you. You deserve better than her. She’s got no depth, her only talent is looking good. She has stick straight brown hair with cheap blond highlights, mine is curly and blond and some what good. I may not be as pretty as her, but I’m attractive. I’ll be getting braces soon. I’m a fair weight, she’s anorexic. What will happen if you go on a date with her? You’ll see there is nothing interesting about her. She’s got the intelligence of a mannequin (she practically is). I’m a great writer. I aspire to do great things. If I’m not a vet, I may be a psychologist, or a writer, or even maybe a singer.

    What if I never tell you? This IS just another rant about how I love you. It’s not like you’ll read this. I’ll never send this to you. I vow it, one day I’ll tell you, and if you love me back, or if not, I’ve done something amazing by over coming a fear, because I’ll do it in person. You don’t have to be perfect to be perfect for me…I’m in love with you, and I’m only thirteen. I don’t care that you’re a grade below me…people may think us teens don’t know anything about love, but you don’t just turn a certain age and magically acquire knowledge about this amazing feeling. Yes, it takes a mature person to know when it’s more than a silly crush, but I’ve always been more mature, I’ve always felt things deeper than the other girls my age.


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