the best ship is friendship

Crushes are fun, fleeting, and uplifting. I'm extraordinarily obvious when I'm crushing on someone because I suffocate them with my attention - flooding them with text messages, calling them constantly (you know, just to check if they've read my messages), and camping outside their house until they give in and come out to see me. I'm positive that I scared off all of my previous crushes; those poor buggers didn't know what hit them. It didn't bother me if they detected that I had a crush on them. In fact, in some cases, I admitted it to them, and for some reason, the common reaction was laughter. The nerve! Actually, I was amused as well because I didn't take the serious approach when broadcasting my affection.

/Flashback

"Hey, guess what?"
"What?"
"I think I like you. I have a crush on you."
"Hahaha, what did you say?!"
"You heard me. What's so funny?"
"You are."
"I'm serious!"
"Oh, okay."
"I know that you don't like me in THAT way (I can be so modest sometimes), but I just wanted to let you know!"
"Err. Yeah, but you know that I just want to be friends, right?"

/End Flashback

You'd think I'd feel awkward after the confrontation, right? Nope. Crushes are insignificant to me, and usually, after admitting to them, I get over them quickly. It's easy to tell someone that you have a crush on them because those feelings are not deep, so the caring factor is minimal. It's a totally different story when you feel yourself falling for someone because that's when it really matters. Some people struggle to show how they feel in fear of rejection because when you actually like someone and they don't like you back, it can hurt. So, you pack away all your girlie tricks of trying to snag his attention, and you become more mature. People act strangely when they're developing feelings for someone - not because they are playing mind games, but because they don't know how to behave around the person, so they end up giving off mixed signals unintentionally.

When you're a smitten kitten, your head is in the clouds, and you daydream about what it'd be like to be his girlfriend. Then reality slaps you across the face when he tells you about the girl he got with over the weekend. I actually don't mind at all when someone I like is liking someone else. I'm twisted like that. Sure, it hurts a little (thinking to myself, "I'm prettier than her, so why aren't you hitting on me?" Just kidding - maybe it's just the ego that gets bruised a little). You can sort of tell when someone likes you; you can't be positive, but you'll at least have a hunch. However, if it's heading in the opposite direction, then you can definitely count on your instincts when they're screaming that the person isn't interested in you.

It's natural to have feelings for more than one person. You have that one special person in the back of your mind, even if you're not dating them (they don't even have to be aware of the fact that you hold them on a pedestal). You can be interested in and date other people along the way, but you'll never really get over that ONE person. It's not love because you've never been in a relationship with them to develop such feelings. It's more about the mystery - you'll always wonder "what if." This person gives you constant butterflies, and when you're at a party and they happen to walk into the room, it's as if a bright light is shining on them and holy music starts playing in the background, drowning out the rest of the world. The "What If" guy is the one who stands out from the rest and intrigues you the most. He's the boy who came close to kissing you but never did - like as though the two of you have sped down the runway twice but never taken off.

It's possible to gradually see someone in a romantic light after being acquaintances with them for years. It has never happened to me, though. I know exactly what I want, so when I meet someone with those merits, I know from day one that they're special. I lack the patience to wait around for the day when my "What If" guy starts to notice me. As far as I know, he was never interested in me, and it was probably the alcohol working its magic. Now that we're friends, he probably thinks of me as a guy (note to self: wear skirts and dresses around him more often to strongly remind him that you're a girl). Having his friendship is awesome - maybe not entirely satisfying but genuinely comfortable.

It's extremely rare for me to like someone more than a crush, so the event of my admitting to someone that I LIKE them is close to extinction. I really don't see the point because if you have that connection with someone, you both should feel the tension. If he's not feeling it, then there is no point in you verbally conveying it to him. It'll just complicate the friendship as he'll understandably treat you differently due to paranoia of hurting your feelings, giving you the wrong impression, or giving you false hope that it might eventuate into something. You have to be honest with yourself - when you know that the person doesn't feel that way about you, you shouldn't bother pursuing them because if it didn't happen six months ago when you first met, then it ain't ever going to happen. Perhaps the initial attraction was mutual, but that ship has sailed, and the only other option floating about is friendship.

is chivalry dead?

We know that we are the children of the divorce generation. Working at GE has taught me that at least 50% of Australians are happily divorced or separated. It still surprises me when customers tell me that they're divorced and loving it. Somehow, we've been taught that it's too risky to put that much faith and trust in another person. Many of us don't bother to work things out because time is too valuable. Our time could be better spent leaving, starting over, and meeting other people. Fresh, sparkly, and new is always better, isn't it? People trade in marriages like cars. Relationships, even those bound by marriage, have become as disposable as contact lenses. Time for a new choice of eye colour - who will look good on me this year?

The dating world has gone mad, completely and utterly insane. We've got relationships that fall apart for valid reasons (like infidelity), but we've also got relationships that break up because they are "too perfect" (what the hell?). Maybe I've been out of the game for too long because I don't know how it works anymore. The days of chivalry, romance, and courting are resting in peace. I blame this almost entirely on the fact that every television show or movie promotes the idea that sleeping together on the first date is normal. If you meet someone for the first time and end up in bed with them that night, where's the novelty in that? There is no pleasure in the unwrapping of the package. There is hardly sufficient time to build up healthy anticipation. Sex on its own has become anticlimactic.

Perhaps I'm just being one-sided; everyone's got their own choice of lifestyle, and who am I to judge? Meh, whatever tickles your pickle!

love to hate those silly love songs

Do you think your taste in music reflects your current chapter in life? For example, if you had just broken up with your partner, you'd be addicted to those sappy love songs. I share a love/hate relationship with love songs. I love them because so many of us relate to them that they could become our national anthems. But I hate them because I'm attracted to them when my relationships fall short, and they fail to cheer me up. They trigger the tears, and make me feel worse off than how I was before I clicked play on my Winamp. But I continue to sing along to them, drawn to their depressing lyrics. It's my choice to hum to these songs for their therapeutic results.

I have a playlist with random songs, but there will be one song that will stand out - one song that will remind me of someone, either a guy in the relationship that has just crumbled or a new crush. What makes this all the more silly is that I can now associate certain relationships with certain songs. Sometimes there's more than one, but there's always and definitely one. Songs do remind us of certain people and times.

Nobody is safe from being my idol at the time of a breakup. Jennifer Lopez got the nod when my three-year relationship went down the drain. Her song "Promise Me You'll Try" tugged at my heartstrings, even though her voice usually gets on my nerves. I stumbled across it while going through my old MP3 collection and I couldn't get it out of my head.

The one song that was overplayed on Winamp was "Missing You" by Imajin. I listened to it on repeat, overanalysed the lyrics, and sent it to everyone on my ICQ list, forcing them to appreciate this "amazing" song. But who on earth permits these people to release songs like this? Funny enough, another person who had been in a war-torn relationship recommended this song to me. It was my all-time favourite during that period. I listened to it all the time, sometimes on a loop when I slept. It allowed me to be mournful while I sang along to the melody, claiming each and every word as mine.

These songs are similar to musical journals. I don't have to jot down notes and I don't have to necessarily explain what I'm feeling because the songs are doing a good job at that. For a while, I thought I was the girl in S Club 7 when I listened to "Never Had A Dream Come True." She was definitely talking about me. She must have been. Even if she had no idea of my existence, she must have composed this tune just for me. That, too, was another song recommended by my buddy. Perhaps he assumed that she wrote it for him, but I'll dispute that issue with him in person.

So what could possibly possess me to drown myself in these heartbreaking songs? Maybe it's easier to listen to someone else whinge about how they suffered, even if it is for the sake of making a record and raking in the dosh. I'm sure my parents probably know when I go through a breakup; they should be able to recognise the gloomy tunes blasting from my room by now. Not to say that I've been through many breakups, but whenever I do, these love songs play a good role in my journey to recovery.

the butterfly effect

Yesterday, a friend and I had a discussion about what we looked for in the opposite sex. Months ago, I listed some superficial requirements in an old entry. This time around, after much thought, I retracted my answer and replied "Chemistry" - someone who could give me butterflies in my stomach.

When I was a schoolgirl, I placed my crushes on the good lookers. As I grew older, I realised that looks weren't that important, so I went for boys with a good sense of humour. Then I discovered that it wasn't enough because guys who could make me laugh usually have a dark side and would make me cry just as much as I laughed. Then I met a boy who was suave, who made me nervous, so I ended up being dull. I also had one dude who tried to crown me his queen and looked at me with puppy eyes. I couldn't stand his clinginess, so I broke up with him, but he refused to leave and camped outside my house while I talked to him through my security door. That was an interesting year. Then I met a nice guy and after three years, it didn’t work out.

So, when I claim that I want someone who is 170cm+ in height, who is witty and who isn't a stingy bugger that only calls me during Vodafone free time, I was wrong. I want someone who can give me butterflies and someone I have chemistry with. It doesn't matter if he's daggy or a bad dancer - as long as sparks fly when we're together; he's the one that I want. Actually, I was serious about how I don't want a stingy bugger; I can't stand tight asses. My point here is, it's been a long time since I've met someone that I'm attracted to, and it's ridiculous for me to bind myself to guys who measure up to such unrealistic requirements. Even if I did find someone who had the prerequisites, the following could happen:

a) Lack of chemistry between the both of us.
b) I feel the chemistry, but he doesn't.
c) He feels the chemistry, but I don't.
d) We both feel the chemistry, but are in denial because we've entered the Friend zone.

This, in turn, throws me back to square one. I'm not in search of a perfect boyfriend or any boyfriend for that matter. Boyfriends are like socks. When you want a nice fitting pair, you can never find one. All the different coloured socks in your drawer and not a single pair go with your sneakers. So why must we all analyse so much? Just let nature take its course. However, if my stupid cupid can see this page, I'd like to ask him to aim properly next time!

Butterflies. When you experience that sense of nerve and anxiety from meeting someone, should you surrender to those feelings or enjoy them for what they're worth? That sensation can be described as paper-thin butterflies fluttering about within your stomach. The butterfly effect works differently for everyone. My butterflies start from that first moment of attraction and then the hopes that he knows that I exist and falls equally in love with me. As he sustains my expectations, the tension just builds stronger and stronger, praying that nothing is going to stand in the way of those butterflies rushing to clinch the pothole of my stomach walls.

I don't need to seriously fall in love right now; I'd be content with the butterflies because I'd rather have the butterflies in my stomach making me feel alive and full of optimism than an empty tummy with no sentiment, no jab in the gut to tell me that this is the one, this could be it. I like the sign even if it's in the form of a butterfly.