Crushes

personal | about my experience with boys

The strange thing about me was that crushes never came to me natrually.
The first time I recall having a crush was in middle school, but simply because I didn't want to disappoint my friend who asked me constantly if I had one.
So, ten year old me eager to relate with these new found friends, chose a random kid in my class who didn't look so bad. Not that I actually had feelings for him beforehand, but the whole idea of having a crush seemed too fun to pass up.
Following middle school we haven't really talked much as friends did, but on occasion he would. I can't remember a lot of it though.
Not before telling my friends this revelation was I obsessing about this guy every second I was in school. I never felt like he was staring at me constantly until then, he went from being another kid in my grade to someone that followed my mind everywhere.
I didn't get it.
I eventually moved on starting 8th grade, realizing how stupid he was. My whole junior high experience was terrible to say the least. I went from bawling my eyes out starting 6th grade because of how drastic this change was, to not shedding a tear on graduation.
Getting back on topic.
High school comes, and it starts the same. No crushes. Maybe guys liked me freshman year, I wouldn't of known because I just didn't care. I truly miss when I didn't care.
School and friends alone built up extra anxiety and depression in me that wasn't there a few months prior.
After making a few casual friends here and there, the crush talk comes up again. All or most of my friends have one, but I don't. And I stayed that way until the end of freshman year.
I applaud myself for that.
But of course, this all took a turn sophomore year, which is right now. The crush talk comes about again with not so different friend group.
This time it was minor, my friend said she liked someone. I agreed, because he was pretty cute. Also he was nice to me freshman year, but I suspect my shyness didn't give the same impression back to him. Oh well.
This got bigger than I planned.
Here I was, liking another guy. Mind you he hasnt spoken to me for weeks before this. He kept on bugging me and saying my name from his table behind me. This got me very nervous.
We never talked again, but each class I had with this guy, I'd just obsess over him. I would isolate his voice amongst the other present voices. One thing I liked about him was his voice, it was almost child-like and warm, if I could explain with words.
Now his voice sounds loud, and obnoxious. It sounds like the alarm blaring in your ear, something I just wish I could shut up every day. It's crazy how a warm voice could turn so cold.
His face, his humor, his, and I quote, "passion" really drove me in.
To sum it all up, I got rejected and was never really given an answer of to whether he liked me or not. I guess I'll never know.
I don't take rejection easily. It spiraled out of control, it was almost like an out of body experience of feeling absolutely pathetic and relieved.
I should've saw the signs before I confessed, but I didn't.
The simple truth was that he'd changed from freshman year. He didn't talk to me and I'm sure he didn't want to anymore. Maybe he got tired of me being stuck up, but again, I couldn't help it.
Than hit the feeling of absolute emptiness, but little did I know. Whenever my friends asked me about a crush, its almost as if I spill it into a cup that isn't there. The false sense that the cup is there and needs more hydration keeps me from spilling, my emotions and all. To the point where it all spills over, and splashes into other aspects of my life. It messed up the mixture Ive already made, and created a big distraction.
The amount of emotions that dripped onto the ground are probably how many tears I've cried over this person.
I wish I couldve told myself that I didn't need a crush, or a high school romance to keep things "memorable".
These crushes have only brought me temporary happiness, and it now seems that I am addicted. Its almost like a drug, you know its bad for you but you take it anyway.
Its one hell of a drug.
So here I am, onto crush #3. Here I go, spilling everything into a cup that isn't there. I know one day it will all blowover, maybe even hurt, but all of those thoughts go away once a small glimmer of hope pops into my head that this might actually be real. That less than 1% possibility keeps me going till this day.
Its like smoking cigarettes, you know its bad, but the idea that cancer wont effect you keeps you going.
There is hope,
And there is realism.
Im not sure which my brain is using at this point.

Author's Note

This is my first published piece here. First off, would you as a reader consider this a poem? What genre is this closer too if any in your opinion? Also any general feedback is very appreciated.