I had my first crush on a boy at the tender age of four. His name was Stephen. He was the cutest little boy and would pick daisies for me on the way to Kinder and present them to me in front of everyone. He would embarrass the absolute shit out of me but secretly I loved the attention. After that year ended, I never saw him again and my little four-year old heart was broken.

Primary school saw a few more little crushes but none that really affected me too much.

High school is where things got way more intense. I had a crush on my best friend’s brother for about two years. Robert was a year older than me and he was the bee’s knees. I followed him around the school like a bad smell. My friends were all in on it and would keep me updated regularly on his whereabouts. One day I headed to the back of the school as he had been witnessed hanging around there. When I arrived I saw him kissing a girl from his year level. My soul was crushed. I don’t think to this day I have ever felt such total devastation. I felt the worst form of betrayal. I was sick to my stomach for days and couldn’t even consume food. I was so utterly disgusted in him that I could not even look him in the eye. It took me a while to get over that but eventually I composed myself and was able to carry on with life.

Over the next year or so we became friends, well I guess you could call it that. He would sometimes walk with me and my friends to the train station and sometimes he would even catch the train with us. These times were by far the best of my life.              

I think he started to catch on to my intense crush on him and like most men to follow, decided to fuck with my brain and my heart.

All of a sudden he became quite touchy, feely. He would put his arm around me or put me in a head lock and once he even shared his drink with me. I was so totally obsessed.

This went on for some time. At one stage there was even a rumour going around that he liked me. HOLY SHIT!! I think the day I heard it I died for a few seconds or at least had a stroke.

This went on until one day Robert caught the train with me home from school. He sat opposite me. For the first ten minutes he stared into my eyes. I knew I was burning up and probably the colour of beetroot but I didn’t care. This was going to be the moment that he declared his undying love for me. We were going to get married and I was going to have his children and we would live together, happily for ever and ever and ever.

So many fantasies were playing in my head. The moment was coming, I could feel it with every fibre of my being. The way he was looking at me left no doubt whatsoever. He was going to say the words I had been so desperately dying to hear.

At that moment, he opened his mouth and said my name. I legitimately almost pissed my pants with excitement. He leaned forward, motioning me so subtly to do the same. I reciprocated trying to control my breathing. He got very close to my face and seductively licked his lips. All that was running through my mind was fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck… he is going to kiss me. I had never kissed a boy before. I could feel myself starting to hyperventilate. I closed my eyes and begged myself to calm the fuck down. I didn’t want to blow this amazingly awesome moment that was about to happen. When I opened my eyes he was smiling at me and he lent a tad further. OK this is it I told myself. My lips parted, my heart was racing a million miles per hour. He leaned in a bit more and said “You have a moustache”. Then be burst into laughter.

And I wonder why I’m so fucked up. Needless to say I jumped off at the next station and walked and cried the whole way home. When I got home I waxed my moustache and cried some more.

I avoided him like the plague after that and eventually he left school.

Finally I grew up and stopped the crushing nonsense. Or so I thought.

Just recently I think it has happened to me again.

The concept that I have a crush at my age is actually destroying my brain. I’m too old for this crap but it is happening and I just can’t seem to stop it. I have all the classic symptoms, nervous sweats, inability to string a sentence together around him, stumbling over my own feet, literal freak outs when I see him and the increase of hyperventilation. I am actually fucking appalled at myself because this guy is a bit of a wank job but it just doesn’t matter how much I pep talk myself, I see him and turn into a strange noise muttering, maniacal, blob of shit.

I have even gone to the point of hiding like a ninja from him. I’m a fucking grown ass woman and I hide to avoid him seeing me. When did my life take such a devastating downward turn?

I guess one thing has changed though. My life experience has taught me a few things and I think if this guy was to tell me I have a moustache, I would punch him square in the face and he would be the one crying.

I am sure this will pass and it is just a silly phase but until then I will develop my ever evolving ninja skills, continue deep breathing, practice stringing a sentence together or at least two syllables and try not to trip over my own feet when he is in a five metre radius of me.

Fuck. My. Life.