crushes are crushes.
It's just that every once in a while you meet a man, and you want to see his insides. And you want him to see your insides.
Is that love?
Or is it just a supercrush?
Anyway, regardless of what the technical term might be, it's nice to have one.
It might seem silly to the common outsider, but it's a relief to obsess about boys (or A boy, depending on the day).
I was afraid that part of me got lost in the wash.
I sometimes struggle with embarrassment about feeling floaty feelings about guys. I have that grade 4 sense of shame (or whatever that is we learned at that age.)
This time, I have decided to afford myself the luxury of thinking nice things about this one.
I deserve a nice boy. I like to think lovely things sometimes. And fuck it if they're reciprocated or not. I have a half an hour now and then to daydream, and daydream, I will.
I found a Henri Nouwen book at the As Is.
I love that man.
He speaks my heart so many times.