[March, 1994] My So-Called Crush

some things are better bottled up

Thursday, March 24, 1994

Dear Journal,

I keep going through nice healthy periods when I don’t like Elliot Meyerowitz then something happens to make me start again.  This last time I was walking to math and passed by a room he was waiting outside. After repeatedly telling myself not to look at him I did and saw he was staring at me.  I just looking into his eyes and that was it.

Today in health (the one class I have with him) I sat a seat away from him until he moved his chair so he could see better (we were watching a movie) or sit next to Cindy J (You know all the guys you consider the cutest in your grade? Well she’s the one who goes out with them).  While he was repositioning his chair he brushed by my leg and apologized.  Pretending to be deeply involved in a crossword puzzle I mumbled “that’s okay.”

Now he was directly (almost) in front of him and the lights were out so I could only see his outline from the glow of the t.v.  A couple of times during the movie (at least 3 or 4) he turned his head in my direction like he was looking at me out of the corner of his eye or maybe he was looking at Cindy. Probably the latter.

After the movie our health teacher took out this fetus preserved in formaldehyde and had a few people at a time come up to her desk to see it.  When I went up I made sure I wasn’t standing next to him but then the people between us left.  You had to lean over to see it so we both did and he was very close to me.  I actually held my breath.  I quickly sat down after that.  I saw him a lot during the rest of the day.  I’m actually beginning to think that I…it’s not possible.  How can I if I don’t even know him and can’t even talk to him.  No.  I do not love Elliot Meyerowitz.

I can’t wait until I leave with my mom Monday.  This cruise will definitely clear my head.

“I send a heart to all my dearies
When your heart is oh so dreary DREAM.”  — Smashing Pumpkins, “Mayonnaise”

Oh, the teen angst of it all!  Being around a boy you liked could sometimes feel like navigating a mine field.  So much uncertainty and insecurity and the tiniest gesture or interaction took on an inflated magnitude.  It was like being a character in a 90’s version of an Edith Wharton novel, except I felt like I was the only one who took notice of all the nuances, the only one who gave them any meaning.  At the time, I would have traded in all those cruises with my mother to have a real connection with Elliot, one that didn’t take place in the wistful corners of my melodramatic brain. Now I can look back on it more logically, I can reason that I hardly knew a thing about this boy and never talked to him, so my crush was mostly based on his looks, and therefore I can’t blame him if he in turn developed a crush on one of the cutest girls in our grade.

I guess crushes by nature are based on superficial traits and a tenuous foothold on reality, at least the ones I’ve specialized in for a good part of my life.

I didn’t stand a chance with Elliot. But at least we’ll always have the fetus in formaldehyde.