Crushed out.

This isn’t the real post I had started before either, but I thought it would be much more fun to write about my crush on Greg than finish the post titled “Weary the struggle”. I’m just not in the mood for psychoanalyzing my activism at the moment, and I think we’ve all be picked apart enough over the past few months.

But really, I am finding myself more and more in a state I can only describe as “crushed out” though that seems somewhat inappropriate seeing as we have been sleeping together on and off over the past year. Isn’t the crush part supposed to happen in the beginning? The giddiness, the sweaty palms, the catch in the breath…. it should have worn off by now, but instead it’s really only started in the past couple of months – during which time our friendship has stabilized into a daily IM chat, occasional phone calls, and some sense that we might make plans besides weekends spent in bed.

It’s like we have just passed the dating three-month mark – you know, that point where you decide whether or not you’re going to keep seeing someone…. you figure you know enough to predict whether there is a possible future (or whether the other person simply has too many weird habits to get used to). It makes sense it took us a year to get here since we have probably spent as much time together as two people living in the same city might over a three-month period…. and suddenly I find myself so pleased when we make plans to visit, missing him in the lull-times, nervous with desire. And although I have had other lovers in the four-years since Darren and have enjoyed them very much, this romantic edginess feels different – feels much more possible (and at the same time risky!)

I will confess, at times I think I should put an end to it right now. I am terrified of heartbreak, and the crush-state is a reminder of forgotten vulnerabilities. Darren comes to mind often, a heartbreak of individual and political magnitude that never wholly ceased and re-opens with every call or letter from prison. But as much as I would like to think of myself as being hard-hearted and able to detach from an uncertain situation, I’m not at all like that – being someone who feels everything acutely – a trait I have grown comfortable with (finally!)

Besides, I like the euphoria of the fledgling relationship, the uncertainty and silliness of it, the ridiculousness of a me who doesn’t want to say good night on AIM and who will spend all of today fidgeting until I meet him on the float plane dock at five. A girl of 33 dying out the premature grey, wearing mandarin orange essential oil and a short jean skirt – crushes give me the excuse to be cute again in a way professional and activist life do not…. provide me with a diversion from difficult things…. and give me new avenues for physical expression. Feeling glad but still hesitant — and of course, not overthinking because that just ruins a good crush in the end.

Oh, yes, crushed out is good (even the scary parts).