Just Another Stupid Boy Crush

Paolo Raeli

The sky is empty tonight. It’s quiet, but not the kind that’s deafening. The air smells like coconut, which means summer is about to start in this part of the world. I don’t know why, but something about this moment makes me remember you. It’s strange to somehow yearn for your face when I see you five days a week. But maybe nights really bring out the worst in us.

I’m sure you’ve heard that I am so into you. And it makes me wonder if you feel the same way too, you know. If you’re willing to make a move since I’ve already paved your way straight to my heart. If we can go further than just staring at each other in the lobby.

Life is bearable whenever you walk past me. It’s as if all the stress and worries flow out of my body down to the ground, crushing them with our footsteps. I like it when your eyes smile at me. When we can communicate without opening our mouths, without using words. One glance at you and immediately, I get this sense that finally — somebody gets me.

I would like to believe that there’s something special going on between us. That in a weird way, we have so many things in common. So many stories to talk about. And perhaps one day we could blossom together into something beautiful — like love, or whatever.

But as I stand here in the dark, feeling kind of emotional, something in my brain shifts. I stare off into the distance, and within a couple of seconds, I am reminded of how I define romance. And I’m afraid it’s not something that’s applicable to whatever it is that we have.

Because we are the perfect ingredients for a relationship that will never happen. Because we choose to stay rooted at the opposite ends of the rope, scared to inch closer in the middle. Always hesitant to fully open our hearts toward each other.

I’m starting to have an inkling that maybe what I feel toward you is not that special. Not the one I’d be telling my friends about. I mean, you’re a good-looking guy, no doubt about that, but I’m not quite sure if that’s not enough. You’re like a painting that grabs my attention from afar but makes me scratch my head as soon as I’m in close contact with it.

Maybe I only like the idea of you. I’m looking for you in spaces where you’re not there, just like tonight. Maybe this is only an illusion in my head. I’ve fed myself clues and signs that never existed in the first place. I’ve been trying to solve a complicated puzzle that will not make sense.

I can’t help but ask myself: what if this is just another stupid crush? Like the one that I had in 7th grade. And is it even normal to be crushing on some guy in my twenties? Is this something that gives adults another reason to frown at me? To think lowly of me and consider me as less successful?

I hope not.

Because liking you isn’t worth the trouble. And I’m getting this sinking feeling that I regret giving you a rare thing in this world — attention. I hate it that I care about you. That tonight I think of you just because I can’t see a single star when I look above.

Maybe the silence is making me way too emotional than necessary. It’s making me romanticize about some boy like you. But maybe it’s only because I’m weaker at nighttime. That’s why I’m having all these deep feelings and being a total disaster. Maybe if I allow myself to sleep, I will wake up tomorrow not thinking about you, anymore. And maybe this stupid crush will eventually fade, like sunset to dusk. TC mark

Angelo Caerlang

Angelo Caerlang is the author of Sparks in Broken Lights.

Seeds Planted In Concrete

This poetry collection by Bianca Sparacino is an assembly of words that celebrates the resilience of the human heart through stages of hurting, feeling, healing and loving.

“Be alone. Eat alone, take yourself on dates, sleep alone. In the midst of this you will learn about yourself. You will grow, you will figure out what inspires you, you will curate your own dreams, your own beliefs, your own stunning clarity, and when you do meet the person who makes your cells dance, you will be sure of it, because you are sure of yourself.”

★★★★★ “One of the best, if not the best, modern poetry collections you can read. Absolutely incredible. Her words are so wise, intricate and delicate that you feel them caressing your soul. I love this book, I love it so very much.” —Hayder

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Image Credit: Paolo Raeli

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