Just a little crush
I have a crush.
It’s just a crush. And it’s not really based on anything besides attraction and a very brief conversation.
I don’t even know his name.
Well, technically he told me but it was late on a Friday night and I had been drinking copious amounts of alcohol. Otherwise I likely wouldn’t have even talked to him at all. But I did talk to him and he showed me his most recent tattoo. And it might’ve just been my own drunken haze, but I think he was attracted to me too.
And then, like an inebriated, flannel-wearing version of Cinderella, I had to leave because it was 2 a.m.
He’s cute, he’s bearded, he’s exactly my type. He’s also a bartender.
Ok, ok, so like … I know. My last experience with a bartender lost me my favorite bar and also resulted in a pretty severe heartbreak. So believe me when I say I intend to tread carefully and at a very, very safe distance.
The point of this little story isn’t that I found a guy – I literally know nothing about him – it’s simply that I have a crush.
And, like … a totally juvenile, high school crush.
I went into his bar a couple of days after we discussed his tattoo to see my crush. But .. I didn’t talk to him. In fact, I mostly had my back to him.
Because here’s the thing, if I do legit crush on someone, I’m incredibly awkward. I mostly stare from across the room when I think they’re not looking and then avoid eye contact at all costs because I cannot hide what I’m thinking or feeling on my face. Ever. And I am certain if I look him in the eyes, he will know that I am crushing on him. And if I start to talk to him, I’ll be stumbling and make dumb jokes and blush, because I can’t help it.
So instead, I will enjoy just sitting across the bar and catching glimpses of him, feeling little jolts of excitement whenever he’s near. While simultaneously pretending like he doesn’t exist. (Side note: I’m starting to see why I’m still single.)
But … I just want to appreciate this … this feeling. Of getting excited and hopeful and nervous and awkward. The giddy, inexplicable rush of emotion when I see him. Trying to casually find reasons to go visit his bar with my friends, but like .. also trying (and failing) to be super cool about it. Getting an overwhelming thrill if there’s even a slight opportunity to talk to him.
This is wonderful.
I don’t need it to be anything more than that. He’s a handsome guy and he can serve me drinks and give me little butterflies and that is enough. I don’t need him to ask me out. I’m not here to see if he’s ‘the one’, I’m simply enjoying a crush.
And this, my friends, is progress.