The art of having a crush

THREE - personal crushes (constantly updating)

Confessions. More or less.

I feel like I have to confess: I've had all my life a total number of 3crushes. Monumentally crushed.
Other notable crushes? Yes. Add another 3.
So a total of six? Fine. I'll tell you about it.

1. Mr. Far Fetched
The first one happened while I was very young, only 13. I was fascinated with Keanu Reeves whom at that time was playing Neo in the Matrix trilogy movies. I was having posters of him in my room, I thought he was perfect. I was devasted of being heart broken anytime I went to see any of the Matrix movies about 10 times each at the cinema, because he was so unatainable. I could barely breathe when he was on screen. What a young age for such a dramatic crush. He was so far away in all terms possible: phisically, worlds apart, and age apart. This was a doomed love from the start. It went on and on for years, and it finaly cooled off when I was around 18.
Meanwhile I had some other real life mini-crushes, boys from my class, who obviously couldn't give a shit less about my existence and I was never worthy of their atention. So I suffered in silence, dreaming every night with eyes open before bed time and in the early monrnings of either Keanu, or someone from my class, both with much the same result: none :)) None other than my own dream state of mind. Aparently that's when it all started. I realised I got so much out of just imagining.
The boys from the class went forgotten when I moved to another city, and Keanu faded out from my life after a solid 5 years of the just one way relationship :))

2. Mr.Teacher
(To be continued)

3. Mr.Dissapear
3rd time lucky time, right? Oh hell no ! Not to me.
The second major crush I had was with a guy, that for a brief period of time I actually dated. I was 18 and he broke my heart for a very long time. And my mind and my souland my everything as a matter of fact. He was always shady about where he was or who was he with. I was madly in love with him and he made me cry daily for not really considering thag what I felt for him was serious. For him I wasn't really his girlfriend. For me, he was the light in my eyes: he was so smart, so cool, so beautiful. He had shoulder lengh blonde straight hair that smelled like divine shampoo. He had blue-green eyes that made me breathe heavily just when he layed them on me. It was like a gift when he looked my way. I felt like the queen of the world for being blessed with his atention. He was tall and very toned. I felt so tiny and helpless in his arms, but somehow still very safe. He was perfect. We were perfect in my head. He was the charming prince. He had a low ride bike that he took around the city with so much coolness that it could never be matched by any other living human. I thought he was so charming with the way he talked, all his weird special words. And he was a GOD in bed. I have never met anyone ever like that. The way he made me feel like it was out of the real world. I was so so in love. Until he suddenly dissapeared for a year. Nobody knew where he was, his stuff were still there in the appartament. It was like he died but he only went off the grid. I cried for so many nights hoping he was okay, hoping he would come back. I dreamed about him every single day, and everyday I would day dream about how he used to be, the things he said, his life vision, his soft hair, his words, his tallness. I was still in love in an obsessive way, in a way that only a crush is. Dementia! He came back after a year. I was so mad and broken hearted and happy at the same time. It was very confusing. But he left again in only 2 shorts days. Vanished again for another year. I kept obsessing about it over and over again. He did this to me, back and fourth for another 3 years. So I had a very self destroying crush on him for over 4 years. And I am not really over even now when it will be 10 years soon. He was the hardest fall I have ever taken and smashed the ground with such a loud bang. I will never be over him. I still replay memories from the golden days, when the sun would come down through the curtains, on his sleeping face, and I would kiss him obsessivly until he would wake up, open those unbelievable eyes at me, and say in a soft voice: hey...