First College Crush
Wednesday, March 23, 2011 @ 3:10 PM | 0 comment(s)

After my unusual post about faith and praying, here I am blogging about infatuations and silly butterflies. I have been mentioning my FCC on a lot of my posts already. And for those who don’t know what or who the hell FCC is, FCC stands for “First College Crush.” Do I need to elaborate more why it’s First College Crush? I don’t think so. That’s like straight fact gawking at your face.

If you think my life is very interesting and worth the thrill, why thank you! If you think my love life is just as hell as interesting as my life, you may be wrong – well, I think you’re wrong. For all you know, I’m just as hopeless romantic as you are (although some of you won’t admit it). I had my first crush even before I learned how crazy mathematics (the day when our adviser showed us the multiplication table) can be, and I fell in love just before I hit the complicated stage of puberty (don’t tell Mom, okay?). Yes, you can say that my love hormones went nuts very early. I wasn’t even a teenager yet when I met my first love! Does “first love” sound mushy? I think so, too. But I don’t have a choice. It’s really called first love… or first real crush, or first unfathomable attraction, or that first crazy feeling for someone.

While growing up, I fell in love, got my heart broken, got my feelings hurt, and fell out of love. Because of the experiences that I went through regarding my romantic life when I was in high school, I had a self-made contract of not having to do anything romantic with the male species (bitter, bitter). I “signed” the “No Boys Contract” summer last year, before I entered college. That same summer, I had something going on with my grade school friend. I didn’t think it was mutual, and I hope he didn’t know about the little crush I had for him. It was just a crush, but I tried to erase it out of my system eventually, because just like what my friend said, “A little crush can go out of hand.”

So then I entered college, and what did I get on my first day? Well tada, a new crush. He was this famous guy that had attained his fame from Facebook. Maybe he was just friendly and active, so people knew and greeted him – high-fived, waved, smiled, called his name – that first day. Then I found myself staring at him, not because I think he’s cute (which I think he was, by the way), but because he looked surprisingly familiar (later, I’d realize that he looked familiar because I’ve talked to him before online and because he looked just like my old classmate and all the *insert-his-name-here* I knew). I looked away eventually, because it was creepy. I didn’t want to build scary infatuation for him, and I didn’t want to be caught staring at him. That would be very stalker-ish. So my life went on, got good grades for the semester, saw him on random days, was successful on trying not to grow my crush-feelings for him, and spent my semester break. I didn’t like anybody in school except for him, but it didn’t grow into something else. Just a little, harmless crush. I guess I even got to the point of not liking him anymore. I reminded myself repeatedly about my “No Boys Contract,” chanted it on my brain all the time.

But have you ever experienced that moment when all of the feelings – both welcomed and unwelcomed – rush back into your system? That one moment when one small thing had happened that messed it all up? Like you were already okay with everything, that you’ve settled and had forgotten, but one moment and then bam, it had hit you all over again. I was so ready to welcome the New Year with no crushes except for Sam Concepcion – my ultimate knight in shining armor, but he came around. And I went back into basics and had to start all over again. See, I was very much into Facebook and Harry Potter during the holidays, and he was, too. So we had something in common, and unbelievable as it may seem, the Harry Potter madness that we shared gave way to a higher form of friendship. We were just into a Hi-Hello basis, but after all the talks about Bellatrix Lestrange and Dudley Dursley, we got into a Harry Potter friendship basis. I couldn’t really explain what a Harry Potter friendship basis was.

So we all welcomed the New Year, and I welcomed the same old feelings. I kept calm, and I didn’t pass out or squeal with delight every time I saw him at school, but the aftermath of my feelings were very obvious. My friends noticed it immediately. Can I deny it? I can’t. Come on! Weren’t blushing and eyes fluttering obvious? Of course they were! And I’m not a good liar, so I really couldn’t deny. I didn’t have a choice but to bear all their teasing and just carried on. Then one morning, we met him and his friends on our way to school. He called someone “Hermione.” I made a face that spelled confusion. I didn’t really understand him. Maybe he was referring to our other friend. It couldn’t have been me, because I wasn’t really like Hermione Granger – not at all very smart and alert, without that bushy brown hair, couldn’t speak English with an accent, and didn’t look like the beautiful Emma Watson (and how ridiculous that I even made those comparisons in the first place). But we met him again at school and also called someone Hermione, and our other friend wasn’t with us that time. So that meant… gah, I wasn’t sure!

From Harry Potter friendship basis, we went on into Blogger friendship basis. Their course had their first academic week, and they had this Blogging Contest. I was planning to join (not because he was in-charged – screw that), but I learned that non-seminar attendees couldn’t compete. It was sad, but I think odds were in my favor. They had conducted another seminar, and I was an attendee, so that meant I could join already. Wasn’t I lucky? So I joined, made a new blog, hastily wrote something for my entry, and tada, I won. Wasn’t I even luckier?

After that week, I met him on the hallway. He tapped my shoulder and told me that my blog was nice and then walked away. I hurriedly ran back into our classroom because I couldn’t hold back my immediate astonishment and, all right, giddiness anymore. It took me everything not to pass out. It was nice to hear him say that. Then I checked my blog and cursed so much when I saw that he left some words on my tag board. It felt embarrassing to have him on my personal blog. But his words were very nice again, so I didn’t care if he’d think that my blog wasn’t really that cool and would take back all the compliments. We got virtually and technologically closer (although we weren’t ever close, to begin with) through our own blogs. But we didn’t talk so much in person, only greetings and smiles. I think the longest remarks that he said to me was that he thought I was mean to and hated him (Translation: “Bakit ang taray mo sakin?”). I was not! I did not! I was just shy. And guess what I said in return? An “uhh” with a stupid face – how smart and creative.

This is the edited version of my First College Crush. I’m not really good with editing, but I hope my amateur skill is enough to conceal his face from your inquisitive eyes and hinder you from recognizing who he is. Don’t even bother going through researches just to identify him (because that’s really too much). And I also hope that he will not have that certain instinct that this is his face and realize that I’m talking about him (although I wager that he’s too modest too even assume).

(c) Photo: Whoever Owns It
For the record, I wasn’t in love with him. All right, maybe at first I thought I was. Once, I saw him on the stairs and he was sitting beside my other blockmate. They were just talking, but my system acted idiotically: I blushed and then was, heck, troubled. I didn’t actually know why I felt that way, or maybe I just didn’t want to know why. I already knew that time that he kind of liked that girl because I heard his friends teased him before (I wasn’t eavesdropping; their voices was just so loud). I was kind of… hurt, but it was nothing, just a little stupid jealousy. That was one of the countless reasons why I made my “No Boys Contract” – because I easily got hurt over insignificant reasons and found it hard to forget and move on. But I had managed to – I needed to.

I wasn’t in love with him, but I also didn’t hate him. Oh no, not at all. He’s an all-around good guy; smart, hardworking, motivated, an awesome blogger, a big Harry Potter fan. He was that someone who gave me butterflies, put a smile on my usually austere face, and could make my eyes wide at the sight of him, my heart beat so fast that it almost hurt, my face burn – from my upper chest up to my forehead (and maybe also my scalp). It was just a little – or maybe big or normal or beyond normal or harmless or harmful – crush, and thank goodness, it didn’t go out of hand.

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a woeful & chaotic diary since 071409