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First Crushes

August 20, 2012

I am the type of person for whom the word “crush” was created.  By the time that I got into middle school and high school, my crushes were truly crushing.  A crush was not fun and flirtatious for me, as it is for many other people, but rather a debilitating burden, leaving me unable to breathe, speak, or think about anyone other than my beloved.

In spite of the emotional energy that I expended on these young men, unfortunately, none of these crushes ever did amount to anything in the form of a real relationship, or even, in most cases, a real conversation.  But since I did spend so much of my time mooning over these boys who are, in the words of my wise cousin, “cream puffs to me now,” I figure that I can at least give you my crushing history.

In this post, I’ll start with the early, formative years of my crushes.  In elementary school, my crushes would be perhaps better described as fixations than crushes.  I certainly thought about the objects of my affection a fair amount, but this fixating did not crush my soul and all of my internal organs as my later crushes would.

Let’s begin with Kindgarten.  In Mrs. Howell’s class, the man of the moment was a boy named Beau.  Beau was a charismatic, freckle-faced boy, and I was not the only girl in the classroom who found him irresistable.  However, the difficulty with Beau was that he was tricky to catch (and I mean “catch” in the literal sense of the word).  All the other girls experienced much frustration, as they spent all of their recesses chasing him around the playground, trying to plant one on him.  But Beau was much too slippery for them, and to my knowledge, he never did get caught.

But I was a sly one, and Beau, swift-footed, but only five years old, was not expecting the serpent-like cunning of my feminine wiles.  I lay in wait for him on the floor by the blocks.  The cubbies where Beau would have to return his lunch box stood behind me, and as Beau approached, metal lunchbox and thick, plastic thermos in hand, I pretended to be absorbed in the blocks.  But just as he stepped beside me, I unleashed my full fury and pounced upon his leg.  He shrieked and tried to escape, but it was too late.  I had already done what every other girl in my Kindergarten class had failed to do: I had kissed Beau on the leg, just as he was tearing himself away from me in a panic.  I still remember the scrape of his fleeing khakhi britches on my lips.

As you can see, Beau and I did share a very special moment, but unfortunately, as is often the case in life, both of us moved on to new adventures that did not involve the other person.

My second elementary school crush was actually closer to a love than to a crush.  Unlike my fling with Beau, this one passed the test of time.  Charlie was my beloved all the way through elementary school.  Charlie’s dad taught me piano lessons and then taught my sister, which meant that Charlie and I spent a lot of time playing in the back yard together.

I kept waiting for Charlie to express his undying love for me.  Because after all, when some of the kids at my school told me that Charlie had once picked up a grasshopper and kissed it, I refused to believe them.  Not my Charlie.

My love for Charlie was patient and unadulterated with anything like jealousy or self-doubt.  All I knew was, I was in love with him, and I took it for granted that he was in love with me.

When my mom finally told me that Charlie had expressed to his mother, who had then reported back to my mother, that I was “tops, for a girl,” I was vaguely disappointed.  Did he really just think that I was “tops,” or did he love me the way that I loved him?  When was his mother going to profess to my mother, who would then profess to me, Charlie’s undying love for me?

This never did happen, and then we hit puberty, and it was too late.  The closest that we got to undying love after that was when our families went on a beach vacation together, and my sister and I forgot to lock the door when we were changing into our bathing suits.  Charlie’s little brother, followed by a slightly more hesitant Charlie, barged into our room in the hopes of seeing us naked.  They were partially successful, as we were only halfway into our bathing suits.  Unlike his little brother, who hooted and hollered and sent up a general ruckus, Charlie stood in the doorway respectfully and looked at my boobs with reverent admiration.  Though he never said anything later to me or to his mom or to my mom, I think that that moment did reaffirm to Charlie the fact that I was indeed “tops.”

So now you have my first two real crushes.  Both were indeed promising beginnings, but neither amounted to much in the long term.  In the next installment, you’ll hear about my first celebrity crush which began in second grade.  You will also hear about the middle school years, which are always uplifting.

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2 Comments
  1. I’m looking forward to the rest!

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