There’s Always Next Year

I think I have something of a crush on this certain someone, and I think he knows. For all it's worth, I think the feelings are mutual. Instead of being very excited, it's really been bugging me all weekend.

I don't get it: what is this? High school? Well, maybe I AM emotionally stuck in high school. Who knows? Even middle school! I mean, I expect complete commitment and devotion -- how ridiculously middle school romantic is that?

Yes, I once refused to believe it, but now I know that the older we get, the more judgmental we become and the tighter we cling onto what we think our lives should be like. We let go of all the "forevers" and "nevers," and let them stay behind in our youth, our memories, allowing them to become nothing but fables and myths. We leave all of it with the "summer skin" we shed. We are left naked, desperately seeking security at all cost, even when it is at the expense of others.

I don't know what all this really has to do with my having a crush on this wonderful person, but maybe, in some indirect way, that's my way of saying I'm totally not ready to open up, and I feel safer with my own coarse, unrefined and under-developed self. If I have to be imperfect and -- God forbid! -- a disappointment, at least I only have myself to face.

Next year. Maybe next year. Or the year after next.