You like someone. You look at them and your penis or vagina leaps out of your pants and says “Oh, I like this one. Can I have it? Please Mommy/Daddy. Pleaassse. Get this one!” You can imagine them making sense. You can imagine changing your status to “In a relationship” and going off the market. Oh, isn’t this so exciting? Exhale.
You try to think of opportunities when you guys can be together. Go to a party that you’ve heard they’ll be at. And by heard, I mean it says they were attending on Facebook. Of course, in this modern age, that means nothing. That means they’ll probably think about going for five seconds and then go do something entirely different.
You go anyway and you hold a red cup and drink something brown from it, waiting anxiously for this person to come in and change your night around. In the meantime, you suffer through so many conversations with girls in sequin dresses and boys in skinny jeans. You learn that everyone wants to move to Austin, Texas, and feels vaguely screwed about their future. You don’t feel the same way because you have a crush, which is better than like 10,000 dream jobs. Good luck with Austin though!
The person never comes and you’re drunk and sad and everything feels so stupid! You feel like a fool for investing so much of your personal happiness into someone else but that doesn’t stop things from sucking. You go home and wilt like a flower. “I wonder if this person knew that they had the power to make me wilt. If they did, they might be completely freaked out…” It’s funny because what you’re doing right now — the whole wilting thing — is just projecting this idea into someone. It may not even be real. You want this person to be someone who’s shy and wears cardigans and listens to bands like Ride when, in reality, they might just be a giant jerk. Jerks can wear cardigans too, by the way. It’s not just a piece of clothing for the kindhearted. I understand your blind optimism though. You need something to feel hopeful about and get excited over. I get it.
Build a texting relationship with your crush. Text each other funny things, stupid things, sexy things. Swap favorite songs and favorite movies. Live for that “DING DING” sound that lets you know that someone sexy cares about you. You live your life in “DING DING” now. Put a burrito in the microwave and when it goes “DING DING,” lunge to your phone and become crestfallen when you have no new messages. Throw the burrito in the trash and maybe hit your microwave in defiance.
Throw a party just so you can be in the same room as your crush. Make a Facebook invite that reads: “Um, do we really need a reason to get drunk?” The answer, which is never given, is yes. You always need a reason. Your reason now is to finally kiss your crush, so bye.
Your crush comes to your party. OMG, you wonder if you can actually do this, if you can actually go through the modern motions necessary in order to land a kiss. Can you?
You get drunk. You corner them at your party and talk about astrology. “I’m a Gemini technically but I don’t really have two sides to my personality, so I consider myself to be a Virgo kind of.” Fas-cin-ating. You make sure they’re drunk too so you’re not just coming off as “Crazy Drunk Person Who Is Trying To Eat Your Face.” They are. They’re drunk too. Thank god???!!!! You can feel secure in acting like a fool.
Find excuses to touch their body. Rub, rub, rub. Okay, you’re basically backed up against a wall. There’s nowhere for you to go except forward… into their lips. You move closer to them and smell their breath, which smells like whiskey and ew. You smash your face into them and start furiously making out. The gates have been opened! You had no sense of ownership over this person and now you can touch every part of them. Just like that! The make out is good, you think. Maybe. No. But who cares? You’re drunk. Move your tongue more!
When it’s all over, you’ll have devoured their face. You’ll have left it in tiny little scraps. People are staring at you but you don’t care. It’s your party and you can be that hot mess in the corner if you want to.
Wake up the next morning grinning ear-to-ear. You did it! You’ve never felt so accomplished, which is sad but real. A giant weight has been lifted off your shoulders. Know that this make out high will last you almost a month.
Have your crush text you the next day, wanting to hang out, and feel the unfamiliar feeling of revulsion towards them. Have seriously no desire to ever kiss them again. The fantasy has been fulfilled and there’s no need to return to it. Wonder if you’re really screwed up emotionally for 2.5 seconds and then order some pad thai. You’re starving, hon!