Where to begin with this particular individual... it's a story now six to seven years in the making (at least on my end), but only recently came to a head. This entry will describe the hopefully not-too-boring history of my crush and relationship with The Academic. There is obviously more to the story, but in order to understand where we are now, you have to understand where we were then... then being 2003-2008. The Academic was my teaching assistant for a political science course I took during my second semester of freshman year. He was a third year law student at the time. I didn't like him. Initially. He was intimidating. He liked to use the socratic method when engaging students (a device I hate to this day, especially as a law student). He seemed slightly cold and aloof. Oh, and there was that one paper of mine that he ripped to shreds. No, I didn't like him at all.
But he was beautiful. Very penetrating eyes. The best damn pair of lips I've ever come across (I have a thing for lips, sorry). Tall with a muscular build. He was hard not to stare at, and after some time, I looked forward to my Friday morning section with him. Eventually, I started to warm up to him. I'm not sure why. Sometime after he tore my paper a part, I felt compelled to do better. I disliked him, but he challenged me - that is something I could only respect. A crush soon followed - one based on admiration, and the fact that dude was just hot. I soon started referring to him as "The Hot T.A.," a moniker I still use when trying to refresh the memory of friends who were around during that time. I never actually thought I'd be with him, but a girl can wish, right? He somehow morphed into that guy - the one I'd be with if I had my pick. The prototype. And that remained true for several years - in spite of my not knowing him.
The semester ended. He graduated. And I was left with this lingering crush well into my junior and senior years. In a very calculated move, I emailed him my junior or senior year (probably senior) seeking help with the job search. "Hi The Academic, I don't know if you remember me..."
We've been in touch since. Not consistently, though. Much of our relationship has been predicated on a teacher/student dynamic, wherein he acted as a mentor of sorts, and I with this lingering crush placed him on a pedestal. With his degrees and accomplishments, I imagined him as this impossibly perfect and unattainable thing (yes, thing). And yes, even with this persona I had imagined for him, my feelings were no less strong (of a different quality than they are today, for sure, but their strength was real). So, when he informed me that he would be leaving for Oxford for a year, and then would head to Harvard the following year, I felt my heart implode and a sting of tears slice my cheeks. Oxford was certainly (too) far, and Cambridge no better, really, given my life in Washington D.C., so why was I crying? Why was I upset? There was nothing in the cards for us. Nothing that even hinted that he was or could ever be more than my former T.A. So, why the fuss? I'm still not quite sure that I know, but thinking I had absolutely nothing to lose, I sent him an overly congratulatory email. One that - if he weren't completely oblivious - would make clear my feelings for him. I let him know how deserving he was. How wonderful he was. How proud of him I was. I even went as far as asking for his address so that I could send him a gift.
If the 25 year old me had any control over that me, I would have slapped the shit out of that girl.
To this day, the thought of that email makes me cringe. The email and his subsequent response, which came a few weeks later (the night before his departure) and didn't address anything I said. It was polite and distant. Enough to make me wish I had never sent the email at all, and enough for me to retreat entirely. That chapter was necessarily closed. I still have the email in my gmail archives, and I can't bring myself to read it. It represents an overly eager child - not someone who was brave enough to lay bare her feelings. It represents an overly admiring child who had placed someone so high on a pedestal that she could no longer see him. Beyond that, it's not something I would do without some suggestion of the other person's feelings. And even if I were to do it without any hints on his part, I would have finessed it. Don't come on too strong. Don't be awkward. Don't be Gigi (from He's Just Not That Into You).
I think many of us have Gigi tendencies, and while I appreciate her openness, I think we should all work to tame the Gigi inside each of us.
The Academic left to do academic things, and I continued about my business as a 20something in Washington D.C. Much of this business will comprise the content of this blog, but that's for later. I hadn't forgotten him or gotten over him, per se, but my feelings for him became dormant. The times I thought of him were random and unpredictable. They occurred when I was both single and in a relationship. I just couldn't seem to shake him. Yes, I'm a romantic but I have some sense - this wasn't someone I expected to ever be with, so these thoughts became a nuisance. I didn't like feeling like I wasn't in control of my emotions. This would be my Type A personality shining through.
As maddening as my feelings were, something about him made sense. I had no basis for thinking or feeling this. I still can't explain it. It would just have to be something I'd have to accept as an off-shoot of my emotions. He and I resumed contact after a certain point. I had a lot of friends applying to graduate or professional schools, who sought assistance with their personal statements. He seemed like the perfect person to offer legitimately helpful feedback. All the while, we would exchange emails here and there. He always maintained a high level of interest in what I was doing and how I was getting along in DC, constantly asking questions, while also never seeming to answer mine - sufficiently, at least. His emails to me oscillated between maintaining the teacher/student dynamic with a (frustratingly) professorial tone, and adopting the informality of a friend. While I was confused about these inconsistencies, I tried to be as consistent as possible since I wished to escape the formality of the former. He didn't quite know how to treat me, and I wasn't sure how to help him figure it out beyond treating him as I would any other person in my life. Ultimately, it wasn't my issue, and I didn't know why he was having such trouble with it.
In the fall of 2008, I began applying to various law schools, and naturally, I enlisted his help. At this point, crush aside, I decided that this would be the last time we interacted. With his inconsistent attempts to maintain a more formal dynamic between us, I saw no reason why I should continue trying to engage him as a friend (or even a friendly acquaintance). I may be a romantic, but I was no fool - nothing was ever going to happen, and it was about time I let it go. On all fronts. My last meaningful contact with him was to inform him of my first acceptance. He responded in his typical professorial fashion, and with that, I let him go. Or so I thought.
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