First crush.

This one boy taught me a lot, and he has no idea. Even though he broke my heart, he's still a source of inspiration to me every day. He wasn't technically the first crush I had, but the first real one, in my opinion.

Scott was in my Language Arts class in 7th grade. He was cute and funny. I liked him instantly. I liked him for three long years, unrequited. It wasn't until 9th grade when I realized that he could never like me. I hadn't talked to him since 7th grade, so I was only crushing on what I thought he was. But I finally snapped and spent an afternoon crying in a bathroom at school.

But as upsetting and heartbreaking as it was, here I am, a year later, completely moved on. It wasn't easy, and it took months and months for my transition to be complete. Now I look at him and think, "why did I ever like that scrawny twig?"

The thing it taught me was to not be tied down by anybody. I spent three years of my life tied down by him, crushing on him so hard without the feelings being mutual. I spent three years of my life looking at the back of his head at football games. I spent three years of my life being lovesick. But now that those three years have past, I'm the happiest I've ever been. Sure, I'm interested in some guys. But I would never consider them a crush, because they don't make my heart flutter the way it did with Scott.

I don't throw the word "crush" around much anymore. Because though a crush is nothing compared to love, I still consider it a crucial, important thing. Few people go through high school being in actual love. Almost everyone goes through high school with at least one crush. That's what high school is to me, four years of getting to experiment and taking test drives. When I sit at my special spot, looking over the football field, watching some sports team practice, my feet crunching on the dry leaves coating the grass, I know this. I know that I can't be tied down by a crush.