Jun. 1st, 2022 02:17 pm
Crush death
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muckefuckSo how do I overcome crushes? Obviously I've been giving that a lot of thought lately--predating BB, because I had a crush last summer that was less severe but still notable. Before that was lockdown, during which I reviewed in detail basically every vaguely romantic relationship I've ever had ever.
One way is a hideous betrayal, as happened with Ragoton (and to a lesser degree with his immediate successor). But a gentler way that seems just as effective is time and distance.
Last Friday was the 5th anniversary of my first meeting with a man I call "Flying Pig". I had such an amazing time with him at Steamworks that I went to his hotel room the next day for seconds. Despite the fact that things didn't work out exactly as planned, he blew me away both times with his kindness and generosity. I was smitten. So smitten that I kept messaging him for for two-and-a-half years despite receiving almost no encouragement at all.
Eventually my persistence paid off and he got back in touch. It had been a rough time for him even before COVID due to a chronic magnesium deficiency that went undiagnosed for far too long. He apologised, he thanked me, he whispered sweet nothings. We reached out to each other sporadically. Early last week I texted him to ask if he was coming back for IML this year and he didn't respond. I tried one more time on Friday morning and he asked, "Can I call you?"
It was a bittersweet call. His voice didn't sound how I remembered and I'm not sure if that was more due to the fallibility of memory or to the vicissitudes of the last couple years. He confessed that he'd lost "all his muscle mass", which probably fed into his decision not to attend (although he placed more weight on the fact that he was finally feeling himself again after several years of exhaustion and depression and wanted to plow that energy into causes he'd neglected at home). But the most bittersweet thing? That feeling of excitement I used to get when I thought about him, that rush of erotic yearning? It wasn't there. Not even when he told me he adored me and he loved and he really looked forward to seeing me again. I wasn't indifferent; I was pleased to hear all that. But it didn't make my heart leap.
Would some of that come back if we finally did see each other again? Perhaps, but I'm not sure. It's a sad thing when a crush dies, even if there is a certain relief to knowing that, whatever sleepless nights lie ahead, they won't be due to this man. There was a window there and that window has closed and c'est la vie.
Will I get there with BB? Eventually. Will it take five years? Who knows? But when it happens, I know I'll feel a bit melancholy. The pain of this moment will be mellowed with time and what will be left will be a memory of a window that opened suddenly and unexpectedly but inevitably and inexorably shut again.
One way is a hideous betrayal, as happened with Ragoton (and to a lesser degree with his immediate successor). But a gentler way that seems just as effective is time and distance.
Last Friday was the 5th anniversary of my first meeting with a man I call "Flying Pig". I had such an amazing time with him at Steamworks that I went to his hotel room the next day for seconds. Despite the fact that things didn't work out exactly as planned, he blew me away both times with his kindness and generosity. I was smitten. So smitten that I kept messaging him for for two-and-a-half years despite receiving almost no encouragement at all.
Eventually my persistence paid off and he got back in touch. It had been a rough time for him even before COVID due to a chronic magnesium deficiency that went undiagnosed for far too long. He apologised, he thanked me, he whispered sweet nothings. We reached out to each other sporadically. Early last week I texted him to ask if he was coming back for IML this year and he didn't respond. I tried one more time on Friday morning and he asked, "Can I call you?"
It was a bittersweet call. His voice didn't sound how I remembered and I'm not sure if that was more due to the fallibility of memory or to the vicissitudes of the last couple years. He confessed that he'd lost "all his muscle mass", which probably fed into his decision not to attend (although he placed more weight on the fact that he was finally feeling himself again after several years of exhaustion and depression and wanted to plow that energy into causes he'd neglected at home). But the most bittersweet thing? That feeling of excitement I used to get when I thought about him, that rush of erotic yearning? It wasn't there. Not even when he told me he adored me and he loved and he really looked forward to seeing me again. I wasn't indifferent; I was pleased to hear all that. But it didn't make my heart leap.
Would some of that come back if we finally did see each other again? Perhaps, but I'm not sure. It's a sad thing when a crush dies, even if there is a certain relief to knowing that, whatever sleepless nights lie ahead, they won't be due to this man. There was a window there and that window has closed and c'est la vie.
Will I get there with BB? Eventually. Will it take five years? Who knows? But when it happens, I know I'll feel a bit melancholy. The pain of this moment will be mellowed with time and what will be left will be a memory of a window that opened suddenly and unexpectedly but inevitably and inexorably shut again.