My first unrequited crush
I developed an interest in boys early. I had my first crush at the age of 5. His name was Marc. We were in Kindergarten together. His presence made me feel different, a different that can only be described as pleasant and exciting. I was in love with him. It was all good feelings, and none of the bad stuff. I never tried to act on my crush; I just enjoyed the feelings his presence elicited. There were no expectations, no consummation, and no rejection.
A year later, in first grade, I was introduced to some new people. One of them made me feel different in that good, tingly way too. His name was Andre and he had a pretty face and he cried a lot. I think I liked that about him. I was in love with him. But this time I wanted to take my love a bit further. I wanted to express it. So one time, when Andre was over at my neighbor Tobi’s, I announced to Andre that I was in love with him and that I was going to kiss him. He said that he didn’t want me to kiss him. I chased him all over Tobi’s backyard until I finally caught him, pinned him down, and planted a kiss on his cheek. He was struggling visibly, his face distorted and his eye brows in a frown. I was happy that I had succeeded at kissing him, but I was startled that he had not wanted it. That part didn’t feel so good.
That evening I told my mom that I had kissed Andre and that he had tried to run away from me. I said to her that I was in love with Andre, so why didn’t he want me to kiss him? It was obvious that there was something between us, some special energy, I was feeling it, how could he not be feeling it? And then my mom said something that I still remember word for word. She explained “Just because you are in love with someone doesn’t mean that they are in love with you too.”
And just like that, my world changed. From then on, every time I had a crush on somebody, in the back of my head there was my mom’s warning, that just because I have a crush on him doesn’t mean he has one on me too. And I would see, over and over again, that she was right. And over and over again, I felt the impulse to express my love but I knew that it wasn’t welcome if the love was unrequited. And yes, I also had expectations of my love being reciprocated, and when it wasn’t, I felt bad. Expectations killed the joy of any crush I ever had, especially when they weren’t met. But what was even more soul-crushing was having to roll in my tongue when all I wanted to do was express my love.
