The first crush I ever had was a blonde haired boy in Pre-K. I never talked to him and never got hurt. He was someone I liked from afar and as a little kid I didn’t think of anything progressing; he just made my heart skip a beat. But, in kindergarten, he was replaced with a boy named Slade, a smooth talking guy. Our moms were tight, and I drew him pictures of us, that his mother adored, but other than those pieces of art, and occasional conversing (of which I don’t remember), I was never going to tell him that I liked him, whatever that meant at such a young age.
I then remember liking a friend during elementary school named Michael, and I remember he did confess how he felt, but I wasn’t sure I felt the same way, and again I wasn’t interested in anything progressing as more than just friends. When you’re young, liking someone simply means you like being around them, boys have cooties and thusly little girls just think about the boy but never actually do anything about it. And in a way, that allows us to not experience a broken heart. In middle school, I liked a boy named Brad, he was obsessed with orange (still is), and he was extremely funny and nice, but this time though I did talk to him, but I never dreamed of confessing how I felt about him, though.
Later in middle school, I liked another boy named Mike, and I guess we became boyfriend and girlfriend; it was just established that we both liked each other and others in my class knew, yet my parents didn’t. However, I secretly liked his friend Andrew, but I never dared say anything, even though I’m fairly certain Andrew liked me too. And eventually Mike and I “broke up,” which basically meant we were no longer friends and no longer hung out, which was fine by me as he went on to become a playa.
Freshman year of high school, I went out with a friend I met in math class. I liked him but eventually the liking fizzled out for me, and after I broke up with him I remembered thinking how good it felt to be single because boyfriends can cause stress and if they are insecure about themselves, that makes a relationship even worse.
From then on, I went on to two more boyfriends, a few dates, and despite the worst of it all: being cheated on, being yelled at by a boyfriend, experiencing a broken heart, and just growing up and realizing what I need in a relationship and what I don’t; I’ve come to the conclusion that young people are relentless. We make mistakes about who we become more than friends with, but we learn from those mistakes. We get hurt, and even if it seems absolutely awful, we bounce back. We have friends who let us vent and we overcome our miseries. We are meant to be crushed because we can take it, because we must learn that life isn’t fair and life can be difficult and a struggle, but we get through it.
So last night, I made it a point to tell a friend of mine of five years that I’ve liked him for a very long time. I had kept my feelings close to me for more than two years because I never knew how he felt and he’s also friends with one of my exes, so I didn’t want to complicate things. But, last night I told him, and I explained why I feel the way I do. And I was going into it pessimistically, assuming he didn’t feel the same way. As it turns out, he likes me too, which is incredible because as of now I can’t stop smiling and I feel like I’m on cloud nine, but that’s beside my point. I was prepared for rejection because I knew I could handle it. I knew I could put myself out there because that’s what growing up is about. Growing up is learning who you are, not being afraid to be yourself, taking chances, and experiencing every emotion from utter happiness to anger to sadness. And if I had been too afraid of getting hurt, I would have never discovered that my friend feels the same way.
We are relentless and we need to embrace that great quality because it allows us to grow up.
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