The glorious highs and devastating lows of love are well documented in music, literature and the Facebook statuses of the emotionally volatile. In contrast, love’s younger brother the Crush is often cast aside and trivialized. Despite being the neglected sibling of the family, the crush can be a sly bastard indeed. He may act as though he’s nonchalant and unimportant, but this guy has the power to mess with your mind. I’ve discovered this first hand. While I’m terrific at being a foxy, Single Lady (Put A Ring On It) and excellent at the hand hold-y couple thing, crushes make me lose. my. shit. When I have a crush on someone, the reasonable, level headed me pisses off and is replaced with a performing circus monkey.
I’ve made excuses for the bizarre behaviour that occurs when I like someone. One time in high school, I literally crawled out of class to meet up with my crush. I put this down to general teenage idiocy. Another time, I convinced my friend and her extended family to help me sing classic Backstreet Boys songs to serenade a boy. I put this one down to my love of the Von Trapp family singers. After my most recent exhibit of crazy though, I could no longer deny that I have a problem. I was having coffee with a friend when Facebook was kind enough to tell me ‘Crush’ had contacted me but cruel enough to not let it load. “Anika, I think you’re being a little bit obsessive …” said my friend, as I furiously tried to get shitty Monash wireless to work. “I’m not obsessive… STUPID PIECE OF SHIT PHONE WHY YOU NO LOAD STUPID FACEBOOK STUPIDSTUPIDSTUPID!!!” When I chucked my phone across Taste Baguette, hitting an unassuming waiter in the head*, it was clear that ‘me having a crush on someone’ and ‘not being bat-shit mental’ are mutually exclusive.
I’ve done some thinking as to why crushes have this effect. It comes down to the fact when we have a crush on someone, we generally don’t know them all that well. If you know another person inside out (their penchant for eating their toenails included) and still think they’re the bee’s knees, chances are you’re genuinely in love with them. Crushes, on the other hand, are almost entirely based on images created in our heads. First, consider how they present themselves to the world, note their striking personality traits and do some general ‘research’ (read: extensive Facebook stalking). Match this information to your own particular wants and voila! An imperfect human being has been moulded into The Best Person Ever.
And when you’re The Best Person Ever, can you blame me for losing my shit over you?
*No waiters were harmed in the making of this column.