This is the thing that’s always wrong with me. Yes, I’m in this current state where I’m after this new boy, and unlike my other four serious ones, he’s what you call a “YOLO” crush. Yes, I have already talked about my concept of not having any “serious” hundred-percent feelings for anyone, as I would like to remain as stonehearted as possible. The less you give away, the less you get hurt.
I view the infatuation as a cycle (well, doesn’t everybody?). The best part is always at the start because everything you do is fresh and new. There’s the high stage in the first few weeks, where I first meet him / finally see crush potential and then I float around it for a while. I revel in moments we have together, or even end up misinterpreting everything as plus points that he likes me back. I see no flaw in him and he has this “halo” above his head, and basically he’s the freaking mirage.
(He’s the perfect little package, really. He’s not hot, he’s not sexy, but he’s adorable. And again, he has the position. You all know how I feel about position.)
The desperate / clingy stage comes next, wherein no new moments come in and I just cling to everything in the past desperately. I find myself cringing at times whenever I look back and retell stories of moments that have been so far behind it’s practically unspeakable. I’m currently at this stage, and sometimes I drive myself crazy looking for more moments and I get frustrated in the end because well, we were never close to begin with. I doubt he even knows my name.
Then the dirt comes up. Some friends of mine discussed some passing gossip and my friend talked about the boy, and I was floored to know what he really was. When you’re still in the high stage, you don’t see anything wrong with the one you like. You think he’s this saint, and he would care for you and all that crap but well, sometimes you find that in the end they’re not that clean to begin with. You just didn’t dig deeper enough.
So this was what I wanted to bring up. I always try to find the flaws in the guys I like because well, it stems from this hidden insecurity I have. I always think I’m not worth it to anyone. I’d look at the different guys I liked, and while I felt something for them, I’d think about any scene with me in the picture and I’d come up with nothing. I probably always focus on the physical side, which is a challenge hard to embrace. I’ve always tried to change who I am both physically and mentally to try to forget who I was back then. But damn is it hard. I’d always end up in square one.
The second part of the clingy stage comes up when despite all the dirt, you cling to him still. You are desperate to know that he’s above his mistakes, and while some are unforgivable you look past it. And it hurts to know that while you accept him, he still has mistakes floating and you endlessly defend him to the depths of forever. He’s above this, he’s above that. He’s changed. But how do you know that?
Then comes the rumination stage or the reflection part of it all: was he worth risking it all? You finally see that his clean-cut image is tarnished with wrong or flaws you thought you’ve never seen in your life. His attitude starts coming up, and your world is shattered. You realize how painful it is that you’ve been living in this utopia and you crash-land back to earth, knowing that what you’ve been living is pure fantasy. Those moments you thought you had with him were false, and the makings of a poor, simpering fool. You realize you’ve given so much and he’s barely inputted anything at all. You find yourself in a heat of shame, knowing how much time you’ve bothered your friends with just to talk about him or subtly inch the conversation towards the topic called the boy.
And then the best part comes along / it could be the worst too: you forget. You see him, but he’s a face. It’s just like the start, but with a few awkward moments in between. You know he knows things about you, and you about him. You try to approach him, but you ask if it’s worth it. Then you walk away, while he stands there as if he never knew who you were. The worst part of it all is he never knew. All those times where you giggle nervously when he’s around or when you start to have those pulsating bouts of adrenaline rush through you when he starts a conversation with you. His world spins madly on, while your world stops and fixates, rotating around him.
You were two separate entities: never one, never will be. And that’s what’s terrible about it: you begin again, and you go through the same cycle. The same cycle of hurt, torture, and waiting. And you wish that sometimes, they’d just know and say “forget it, we’ll never make it out here together. You’re stuck on your own.”
But all your brain could say was, “I told you so.”