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I refused to put a name to it


Althena

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CRUSH

 

To give it name would be to give it life, I thought. I refuse to name it then. I refuse to acknowledge it for fear that it might be true. This was my attitude the first time I fell in love with a girl. It had gone against everything I had been taught, everything that I thought I was, and I was afraid of what it would mean.

I was still young, very naive, but I genuinely thought I knew it all, and I acted like that to the whole world. Publicly, I was just like everyone, but privately, in my mind, I was a mess. The thought of being in the same room with her made my stomach tingle with nervousness. The sound of her voice made my ears perk up to hear more. The first time her hands grazed mine in conversation, I almost crumbled in joy and excitement. Every time I saw her from across the room, spoke to her or spent any amount of time with her, it was the highlight of my day.

I neglected my studies, my daily routines and I built these elaborate stories of she and I in my head. Yet, I refused to name it. I hoped that if I never acknowledged it, it wouldn’t be real. I hoped that if I never said out loud, that I had a crush on her (heck, maybe I was even in love with her) then it would die a natural death and we could all pretend it never happened.

I hoped that if I didn’t name the monster, it would die a natural death. So everyday, I woke up, plastered a smile on my face, did what was expected of me, and played the mental crush-love-lust-want gymnastics in my mind. ‘Oh look how pretty she is’ I would think in my mind. ‘Look at how her smile lights up the room. Look at how she tilts her head to the side when listening to someone...look at how the skirt cups her body so perfectly.’

Days turned to weeks, weeks turned to months, months never did turn to a year before I looked in the mirror one faithful day and said to myself, gosh, I am in love with this girl…

 

TO BE CONTINUED…

 

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