crush
Dear Universe,
As I sit here writing on my usual standing desk in the garage I’ve continued to dub “the waystation”, I find myself at a loss for words. And I always have words. Why, then, can’t I figure out what to say right now?
As I sit here procrastinating now on my bedroom desktop computer while trying to write the most difficult letter to you I’ve ever written, I… actually can’t help but smile. Just a little.
I mean, you already know what the subject matter is for this specific letter: yes, I do, in fact, have a crush on someone right now. It’s a recent feeling, no less than a month’s time. But why did that month feel like forever?
I guess I couldn’t help but smile because this feeling, having a crush on someone — I’d never have thought I’d ever feel this way again. Sigh. I haven’t been completely honest with you, Universe. I’ve hinted about it and wrote poetry about it in past letters, but I think I’ll be completely transparent now. I was in a 6-year relationship with someone before we broke up 2 years ago. And while we ended it in good terms and with as much closure as we could possibly stomach, I made the stupidest, edgiest, ridiculous promise to myself: that I would never romantically love again.
That I would go on a journey of self-discovery, to find myself and rediscover the self-love that I’ve always wanted and needed. To find friends, real endearing friends, ones who have the emotional availability and capacity to help a struggling kid like me, now a young adult who has felt lost and alone for an extraordinarily long time.
And it’s been working! For the last 2 years, I’ve found solace in the friends who’ve continued to check-up on me. I’ve found self-love in solitude as I wrote every single day, finding routine and discipline in focusing on self-improvement for the sake of loving myself and no one else. No one to prove otherwise, nobody to impress, nothing stopping me from loving myself as much as I wanted. And I really, really hate myself. But somewhere along the way, I slowly and unknowingly started to believe that, even I, a nincompoop, can unearth and forge a self-identity worthy of living life for themself.
And I got stronger, learning forgiveness, both for others and myself, as I healed those wounds still scarred within me. The branding iron marks still indented on my heart from past traumas dealt by others and myself, self-inflicted insecurities that will last perhaps even past this lifetime but now feeling easier and lighter to bear. Weights of the past now feeling almost weightless as I dashed through Calabazas Creek Trail, running a sub-9 minute mile over a 3.6 mile course just hours after having gnarly dental surgery (did I mention I had teeth problems? My bad) — because, maybe, I just felt like running while high off painkillers and local anesthesia, baby. And I’m all outta fucks to give.
Yeah, I know. This is a lot to take in, Uni. I feel like I’m in my Eat, Pray, Love phase. At least that’s what I keep telling myself and everyone around me. No time to be romantically involved, no time for anyone else but me. No energy spent on anything negative that doesn’t directly contribute to my wellbeing and general self-discovery. That’s not to say I’ve had moments of selflessness (doesn’t help that I’m vouching for myself), but for the times I’ve had, they’ve helped my heart feel whole again, reaffirming kindness and love above all else.
I sheepishly hope you get where I’m coming from. I hope all this fluff and extra, unnecessary (which I know is necessary) backstory helps piece that this new phenomenon, this crush, is novel. Keeping my head down, focusing on myself for almost the last two years, making new friends and naturally seeing them just as friends, keeping my guard up against all who would disturb my peace (a friend confessed their feelings to me a few weeks ago, but I healthfully declined); I didn’t see this coming at all. And I’m trying to get a Master’s degree! And — and I’m trying to write a BOOK!!
But I swear, Uni, you should see how my eyes light up when I check my phone at 5AM to see new messages from this person. You should see how panicked and scrambled I get when they text me during the day; even a coworker told me, “Mac, you okay? —You need more sleep.”
“Sorry, bossing.”
But you need to see me when I find myself spending my last waking moments sending messages after a difficult day at work right before I sleep for the night. For almost a whole damn, fuckin’ month. Holy crap. What’s gotten into me? Who am I? This wasn’t part of the plan!
I’m critical and precise, calculated and meticulous, quick to the solution and unwavering in my decisions as a leader. But here I am, a puddle of goop with nowhere to runoff to.
I’m supposed to be this self-reliant, independent boss of a human being. I go to work, gym, and then write. That is my day, that is my life. I don’t have time for anything else — why the hell am I watching Steven Universe after they recommended it to me?! And why did I make a Google sheet documenting my watching experience??
But you should’ve seen how bright my life felt over the last month. Especially during times of darkness, when we’re reminded that with life there is death, I found a little joy in the light. A smirk. A chuckle. As they send me ridiculous SpongeBob deep-cut references that even I sometimes couldn’t keep up with.
And I ultimately decided tonight not to ever tell this person. For many reasons: 1) I’m tired of telling crushes I like them and am taking a break from initiating that uncomfortable conversation, 2) I like our friendship now and don’t want to possibly ruin it (which has happened to me before — shoutout to highschool), and 3) maybe I’m just not ready to say these things out loud? Only to hold them feels enough. And I think I can live with that. Really, I do.
That I’m even allowing myself to feel this way towards someone is enough. That I can have a real, human crush after disavowing from all that for eternity. I’ve come a long way. Now, to shelve this into my “good memories” cabinet after having spent the month basking and enjoying wholesome and positive energy, to finally let go of this feeling now coming to an end.
And they just had a way with words. Elegant and fierce and comforting. A confidence that radiated with every sentence that made me want to be just the same.
Cheers to all that and everything else unwritten. Farewell.
With jumbled-up words from your favorite mess of a puddle,
Mac
P.S. you better not tell anyone, Uni, I swear —
