That time I found the love of my teenage life...

As previously mentioned, growing up I was always boy crazy. If someone asked me who my celebrity crush was I had a list of at least eight people ready to go in ascending order. Whenever I would watched a movie and a cute guy would grace the scene I would zero in on one feature, the eye's….arms…perfect scar above there lip (Dermot Mulroney, call me) and I would convince myself I needed it in my life.

This lasted all through High School, yet the guy at the top of my list remained the same. His songs were on constant repeat whenever I got in the car and I would always be up to date on which state he was performing in at any given time. This sounds a lot creepier than it is, it was merely something to daydream about in my down time…oh and rub my imaginary love in my boyfriends face…completely healthy. 

When I was 18 and finally done with High School, I decided I should probably get over the little celebrity crushes I hung on to. So I gave him up, cold turkey, like my hardest drug and I moved to New York City.

I broke up with my boyfriend at this time also and began to really focus on myself, growing up and becoming someone I was proud of. That was until I walked into a local bagel shop downtown.

There I was humming and harring over the various types of cream cheese when a person appeared next to me. Startled, I jumped into them and quickly turned to apologize, when I noticed who it was.

The guy I had joked about marrying for all those years.

We exchanged a few quick sorrys! and I was out in a flash. The whole train ride home was a blur, it was like my crush gained some substance and I couldn't think straight so I did the only logical thing.

I took to twitter, 

"@ lovely seeing you at Pick a bagel :) Sorry again!" I tapped into my phone walking the fine line of sweet and too cool. I sent it, and threw my phone in the direction of my bed before wandering off and flipping open some amounting homework. 

An hour or two went by before I looked back over at my screen to the notice of a brand new twitter follower. weird. I only used twitter to habitually stalk celebrities so my current follower count was 3. Then I saw the name, his name.

I double checked….triple checked…almost passed out before I had the guts to open it up….but sure enough…there it was. He had followed me and more importantly….he had messaged me. 

 I literally couldn't feel my face. That odd connection might not have resided only in my head. I couldn't breathe, I still remember the screaming phone call to my best friend...it's safe to say I completely lost my shit. 

 We twitter messaged for hours until he asked for my number and texted me, a simple "Hey it's (Prince Harry....or whatever his name was)!" and I died. I was afraid to go to bed that night, afraid that I would wake up and it wouldn't be real. During class the next day, I must have checked my phone every hour before finally receiving the message I was craving,

"Good Morning! What are you doing today?" 

It was so simple yet so oddly perfect. This game went on for weeks, he would text me, invite me out and I would string him along claiming to be too desired to grace his presence at the current time. The real story was my fake ID hadn't come in yet so all these romantic cocktails in fancy bars would have to wait. 

Eventually though, I caved. He texted me his address and told me to meet him, little did he know three years ago I would have died to have it...in a completely no creepy way I promise! I calmly headed for the address but ended up dreadfully lost in the Lower East Side, sat on a rickety old park bench sandwiched between a dodgy palm readers and a Chinese take out. At the time I was without a smart phone so my only option was to text him and beg for him to come and find me. I waited, he never came and eventually I stormed off home. 

Then he called me. I heard his voice and I was brought back to the alternate reality my life had become. He explained the situation and like putty I forgave him, but we were back to the Cat and Mouse.

He constantly texted me calling me a punk telling me I was stringing him along. It was crazy, who I wanted more than anything for years, and now I'm the one who is desired. 

We teetered with excuses, new jobs, business meetings, concerts and eventually it got to the point we realized we had to meet. So we did.

It was a rainy Thursday night, I was at the library diligently completing the ten tons of homework I had put off in exchange for my hour long conversations with my once dream boy. We decided movies at his place would be the best option and he offered to meet me this time, the Orpheum Theater, under the STOMP sign.

I was literally shaking the whole walk there. The weeks of playing hard to get had only built it up in my mind, but five seconds later I was there and he was there. Decked out in all black, hidden under a hooded sweatshirt and carrying a beat up skateboard.

Holy shit. 

I forced myself to blend my two realities. On one hand he was the guy I had a sarcastic school girl crush on for the past few years and on the other was the guy I had randomly started talking to and really started to like. We hugged and it was all oddly real.

The tale didn't end on that night, it took many twists and turns but that's for me to know and you to potentially be told…but I can give you one thing….

Sometimes things are better in your head. They are safer there, there is no imperfection that can scar there image. Sometimes what you think you want more than anything, isn't really that great at all.