I love crushes. I do.
I know that ‘crush’ is a childish word, but it fits.
Crushes are something unique, intense and heart breaking, capable of making you soar, all dreamy-light, and equally capable of sending you crashing face first into the dirt. They usually don’t have intent, not really, realism is too mundane for a crush. They are fanciful, whimsical, the object of your crush can be completely untouchable, might be a word, a voice, a perception, an image. It’s sometimes even better when you never see the whole, just snippets flitting briefly into the light, enough to be luminous.
Being crushed on is a special kind of flattery, I absolutely adore it, it makes me purr with pleasure. It swirls around and over me, and it has a particular texture, smoothly rich and creamy. It tastes like caramel and fresh sea air, sweet and salty. It turns my head, makes me floaty and smiley, makes me want to touch gently, just to see what will happen, to blow kisses and have them caught softly on a turned cheek. Crushes are often shy, they blush and spin madly when you turn eyes their way, and sometimes they offer it up and then quickly run away, leaving the sweetness behind, untraceable and abandoned.
Crushes, oh my. Yes please.
A crush can be a wonderful thing. It can burn through that gray, foggy shroud of “sameness” that covers so many days and make them just a bit more colorful. She may be completely unobtainable and that’s OK because deep down inside, you just “know” that had the fates decided differently, it could have been a beautiful thing.
I liken having a crush to going to see a Spielberg movie where you suspend belief at the door and just go in and enjoy the show. Every new contact with her becomes the high point of your day, as you imagine that you are as big a part of her life as she is of yours. She makes you feel like you are smarter, better looking, more sexy, and clever than you really are and you revel in it. You just don’t want to get to close because there is always the danger that you may break the spell by allowing reality to come crashing in like a raging tsunami and drown the whole thing.
And sometimes, just sometimes, if the movie lasts long enough, and the pull is intense enough, you can start to become that smart, sexy, and clever person that you imagine yourself to be.
*smile* That is such a lovely way of looking at it, slapshot.
I like this in particular, it’s so true:
“She makes you feel like you are smarter, better looking, more sexy, and clever than you really are and you revel in it.”
Oh, dear Ms. Ferns, I crush on you every time I read your writing, so intensely honest, passionate and lyrical, and that’s so sexy.
*smile-purr* Thank you for the sweetness, Zero2Infinity.
You might think I’m just trying to make you purr with pleasure, but you’re very crushable-on.
*smile… purr purrrrrr…*
Amen! I love the taste of caramel!!!!!
I do too: yummy!
There’s a woman I work with. I’ve had a crush on her for nearly a year now, and I didn’t even realize it until I read your post. Thank you
Awww, that’s sweet. I’ll bet it puts a spring in your step every morning on the way to work!
My dispatcher knows. She teases me. “Shall I have you work with Delores tomorrow?”
“Will you do a particularly unpleasant run for me, if I let you work with her?”
It won’t be unpleasant, Lindsey. I’ll be with Delores.
“Yes, you will, won’t you?”
Lindsey grins, goes back to her keyboard.
*laugh* That’s hilarious and sweet. I hope there is blushing (yours of course!).
Wanted to comment on the pictures– Oodles of them.
Yes. Since my twenties, I have had ‘a thing’ for women in their forties. So, those little things do ‘go crunch’ for You. And. “Some were meant to go ‘crack'”; as I heard Patty Smith once sing.
The crush of Heart-Throb under Her sensitive foot– became one with her clothes– merging with the darkness above. She could feel the beating of his heart. “Yes. Heart-Throb.” He heard Her. “You know it well from me.”
This woman laughs like a spring welling up in a pool inside him. Forever more.
~~~/\;;/|\~~> P.S. I like how this media formats.
Well, what sort of twenty-something *doesn’t* have a ‘thing’ for women in their forties? I mean, really?!!
*smile* Thank you, spidery one.
These forty something woman often feel they must dislike younger men because they are subservient.
I think they are just socially programed and refuse to accept the value of an open mind– a blank wax slate– they can help mold– Pygmalian style– into the most perfect man they can craft– who is actually available. An artisian whose statue of male perfection can come to life through her skill– blessed by the Goddess of Love– happily ever after.
But, let’s skip the part about “Once upon a time….”. This has no suspense and is predictable.
How old ARE you anyway, spider?
You sound suspiciously like you are selling me snake oil… young, healthy, perfectly formed snake oil…
I apologize. I know of one woman who distains younger men because they all are ‘subservient’. She may never have a steady beau. I feel sorry for her. Yet, for some– she shocks and awes them– in a direction which might leave them lonely as well. Oh, the impressionable ones. spider
I may be about due for a face full of dirt. The dreamy giddiness that Ferns and Slapshot so eloquently describe are still there, but it’s not enough any more. The more I know about her, the more I want to know. The more I talk with her, the more I need to talk with her. The more I do for her, the more I crave to do.
We have a curious relationship. It’s a delicate little dance. I do things for her that I wouldn’t do for anyone else. She allows me to do things she wouldn’t accept from others.
Anyway, in light of all the happy goings-on around here recently, I’m going to ask Dolores for a date. My judgment isn’t always on solid ground, so I talked to Lindsey, since she knows both of us. Lindsey tells me to go for it, and wonders why I’m so slow on the uptake.
“…in light of all the happy goings-on around here recently, I’m going to ask Dolores for a date.”
I have my fingers crossed for you! I do hope Lindsay is right.
I totally agree with slapshot, by the way, with this: “the potential reward is well worth the risk”.
In a few years, would you rather look back and think ‘I gave it my best shot’ or ‘I wish… if only…’ I’d go for the former every time.
Best of luck!
@ Eric Navasota
GO FOR IT!!!… And best wishes in doing so. While you may indeed get “a face full of dirt”, the potential reward is well worth the risk… and anyway, dirt washes off. (believe me, I KNOW)
I look forward to reading your happy story
I wanted to go to an Irish pub. She suggested Mexican. At the end of the negotiating process, we were able to reach a compromise. We’re having Mexican.
*laugh* She said yes, that’s wonderful. And it sounds like the negotiations went perfectly. I hope it goes well.
Did you know that Babe Ruth was also the strike-out king?
*warm smile* Only those who never try never strike out. Better to try a million times and wear the strike outs than to never try due to fear.
Good for you, eric.