I seem to be in the mood for embarrassing admissions. On that note, I've always kind of liked the song "Crush" by Mandy Moore. This is for two reasons: First of all, it states what exactly a crush is, in no uncertain terms-- "I get a rush when I'm with you. I've got a crush on you". And second, it seems oddly asexual for a mainstream pop song, in that, like me, Mandy doesn't seem to have any plans for actually pursuing her crush. Much like the situation in this song, whenever I had a crush, I had no expectation that it would be mutual or lead to anything more than that.
But this post is a little more specific than crushes in general. I guess everyone fakes it to some extent, and asexuals are no different. The last crush I had, about four years ago, seemed to be largely inspired by the power of suggestion. I'd received an invitation to a party, and it was suggested that I bring whomever I had a crush on. This made me feel bad, because what, did everyone have a crush besides me? Was having a crush really so standard? So I sat around listening to Weezer's "El Scorcho", which happens to be about a massive crush. Of course, I wanted a crush of my own, so I somehow developed one on the next guy I saw. Although this was my only sucessful "manufactured" crush thus far, what I felt was real-- I did, indeed, get a rush when I was with him. (Although, like all my crushes, I'm no longer sure why I liked him so much.)
Another crush I had was inspired by a boring work environment. And now, I'm stuck in one again. I found myself wishing I had a crush on one of my co-workers, which would make the day pass in a more exciting way. The only problem? I would have to make one up, since it wasn't presenting itself organically. Here's how I went about it: I decided to target straight men, since they would be the most numerous group. I didn't want to have a crush on someone who had no chance of ever reciprocating. So, I zeroed in on one of the very few youngish, straight men in our office. I chose this particular guy, let's call him Pablo, because he dressed fairly well and seemed like a genuinely nice person. He also shared a name with an infamous celebrity, which I found highly amuisng. So now all I had to do was...wait? Whenever Pablo passed by my cubicle, I tried to conjure some giggly, schoolgirly twitter deep within my core. But mostly, this was just funny, not crushworthy. After that, and sure that Pablo was not attempting to do the same thing, I was, like Mandy Moore, not sure how to proceed.
But there was a larger obstacle. I wasn't sure how to conjure up a crush in such a sterile, unlovable environment. I mean, what do you think of in a place like this:
Large armies of zombies hyped up on caffeine? Overthrowing capitalism? Aren't crushes, at their heart, sort of about hope, and cubicles are sort of...not? However, I'm hoping that my constant efforts to decorate my portion of my cubicle will make me an object of affection around the office. I guess I'll have to save my own crushes for after hours.