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I want it that way

Makes me feel like I was watching one of my own school assemblies

Ah, to be a teenager again.  All of that freedom and innocence.  All of the possibilities…

Actually, that’s a big fat lie.  I don’t actually want to be a teenager again.  At least I don’t think I do.  I will not delude myself into thinking that my teenage years were all la-la-la and idyllic.  While I had a wonderful experience overall, I do remember the funky parts.   That thing called a crush.  How all of a sudden it would hit you and pretty much consume you.  The kind where you memorize class schedules for any opportunity to cross paths with the recipient of said crush.  The kind that you write letters to your best friends about “he smiled at me today.  Oh my God I love him so much”.  The only cure for the all-consuming teenage crush seemed to be, the next crush.

I wrote out lists of who I liked and why I liked them.  I saved many of these in a box of course.  Always a box.  In the back of my closet.  They are all rather mortifying in their intensity and their honesty.  I was IN LOVE with him.  Why didn’t he love me back? Why did he love her instead of me???  I can make fun of it now, but that feeling of unrequited love was just as big a part of my memories of young adulthood as the slumber parties, curling irons, and braces.  There were many crushes which were reciprocal but for some reason, those never seem to stand out as much as the ones which weren’t.

Was he looking at me???

This was on my mind after watching the end-of-summer camp performance last Friday.   Aside from dying while watching Mateo perform a perfect hip-hop routine (who knew?), it brought me back to being a teenager.  Some of the boy counselors put a performance together for the campers – or really for the female counselors.  The younger kids loved it too.  It was ridiculously adorable and innocent.  They danced and lip-synced to the Backstreet Boys “tell me why…aint’ nothin’ but a heartbreak…tell me why…”  It was awful.  It was amazing.  It was hilarious.  It was mesmerizing.  I loved them for having the confidence to get up there and to be silly.  I loved them for dancing over to the girl counselors.  And I loved the girl counselors cheering and laughing while the guys danced.  I cheered right along with them as though my crushes were up there singing.  I couldn’t help but wonder which one was the heart breaker and which counselor was “in love” with these boys.  There’s no way that inter-counselor admiration hadn’t been taking place that summer.  These are all teenagers.  It made me want to be a young girl again just for a minute.  With my braces and crazy hair giggling to my girlfriends over how cute so-and-so looked and how well the other one danced.

I love that these kids have their whole lives ahead of them for so many crushes, heart breaks, and ultimately, so many opportunities to love.  And don’t get me wrong.  I am still vulnerable to this phenomena, although nowadays as a married woman, the object of my crush is more likely to be an actor on television or in a movie.  Though, if he’s a dancer or singer, I still know, he’s singing just to me.  Some things never change…

The object of future crushes. Dancing hip-hop

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