Tongue Tied

When I have a crush on someone - weak or strong - I lose my ability to speak properly. Sometimes I stutter from nervousness. Sometimes I speak too quickly, with thoughts racing between my lips at the speed of my erratic heart palpitations. Sometimes I don't know what to say when I actually have everything to say.

Sometimes I say absolutely nothing at all.

I've had a few epic crushes. Charles L. Michael R. Bernie (his name is Bernie... he doesn't need an initial for his last name). And of course, The Academic. I consider myself a fairly confident and charming person, but I lost any sense of that person around these individuals. They made me nervous. They made me sweat. They gave me butterflies.

Charles L. was in elementary school. I didn't know how to talk to him, so I slapped him upside the head instead. I also slapped him in the face (please do not ask me why... I guess it was my own way of pulling his pigtails). I nearly died when we held hands at my birthday party at the rollerskating rink. We circled the rink together during a slow song and I totally thought it was meant to be. I didn't say anything to him the entire time (but he gave me the cutest patent leather backpack as a present).

Michael R. Ohhh, Michael R. Wow. Now this was the middle school crush to end all crushes. And it lasted until my sophomore year of high school, even though we were both at different schools. We talked a lot online (back during the days of AOL instant messaging). That's actually how we began talking. I knew he liked the James Bond movies, so I made up some bogus crap about how I was a fan, as well; this would later come to bite me in the ass when I couldn't answer any questions about the movies. We became fast internet friends, but this never transferred to real life. (This is one reason why I absolutely do not like texting, IMing, or BBMing when you're getting to know someone romantically. They have no place in dating.) I didn't know what to say to him. Or how to say it. One day, for example, we were both walking down the hallway from opposite ends. We were the ONLY two people in that hallway. We made eye contact, but said NOTHING to each other. Knowing myself, I probably choked on my butterflies and looked away. At the end of 8th grade, we hosted a symposium. Couldn't talk to him then, either. Even though we were face to face at one point. I think he realized the absurdity of the situation because he made an effort to say hi to me twice. I eked out a "hey," but nothing more.

I actually saw Mike in 2008 at a middle school reunion (magnet program. bear with us.), and decided I had really great taste in middle school. He turned out to be a wonderful human being, and a great catch (yes, he's taken.).

Bernie was the summer before 11th grade. Bernie was super cute. Bernie was tall and surfer chill with baby blue eyes. Bernie was great with kids. He was funny. He was compassionate. I really liked Bernie. I didn't have a problem talking to him until my fellow camp counselor let it slip that I had a crush on him. Hello, awkward - he and I were co-counselors for the same age group. After that, I couldn't overcome what I felt to be humiliation, and so silence ensued.

The Academic. Slightly different situation. And perhaps it isn't fair to lump him with these crushes since much more than a mere crush developed between us, but oh well.. For a period of time, I could get it out. And it was easy. No effort at all. When I began sensing that something wasn't right, however, I began to clam up. When he began hesitating, I began hesitating, which probably made him hesitate even more, which in turn made me hesitate even more. I relied on old conversation topics as if I had nothing to say. On some level, I think I thought these topics would be easy to navigate, which would enable me to read his (weird) behavior. I also think I thought I'd have more control over the situation and my level of emotional investment. Relying on stock topics kept my heart and vulnerability at bay. I had everything to say to him, and I still have everything to say to him.

I just can't.

Open Letter

I don't know what to do with the fact that I just miss you.

So I'll continue doing nothing.

love,
me.