I have a crush today.  I didn’t have a crush yesterday, or the day before. It came upon me today like a little sniffle and sore throat this morning, that suddenly spread into a full blown head cold – or crush. I’ve been there before. I know the signs. The only thing to do is to let it rage until it comes to pass.

This guy, this crush.  It means nothing, but it means everything.

Today. I can’t stop thinking of his kind eyes and his soft voice.

Today. I wallow in the thought of his talent and his history.

Tomorrow. More of the same until I try to dampen the affliction by realizing I’m not the only one who feels this way about this person – or crushes in general.

Why do we have crushes?  Is it the introvert’s panacea for not being able to forge ahead in life? Is it because we don’t actually want to connect in a relationship, allowing us to write the story of this person in our mind without having to deal with possible hurt or humiliation?

Or are some people lucky, and their crushes become their lovers, their partners or their spouses?  Perhaps there is something in the mind of the crusher that believes the fairytale will come true. Maybe just this once – it will be the way it happened with so and so – or the fan who became the wife.

Maybe one day I will know him on a friendly basis – after this raging head cold of a crush dies down into a dried up nose and remnants of old Ricola cough drop wrappings. Perhaps then, I’ll meet him when my heart isn’t lobbing out of my chest and throbbing on the floor at his feet, and my post nasal drip isn’t tickling my throat cough reflex.

After all, a crush is like a quick 24 hour bug, making you wallow in the lovely snotty fever dream caused by an antihistamine buzz. The fog brain of day dreaming about great sex in fun places comes in frequent times of the day, like blowing your nose and nettipotting.

You loose minutes as you stare off into space thinking how his soft expression makes your mind wander off into twilight meditation, like taking Dayquil and falling asleep during a commercial while watching ‘Dr. Oz’.

Those imaginings are equivalent to the dry mouth that wakes you up in the middle of the night because your sinuses are clogged.

Daydreaming about a crush is a symptom of wanting to get lost from reality of life. It’s an act of love addiction, where you long for the feeling – but you are in control. You never get hurt. You never have to stick your neck out. You feel that wondrous ache between the pitter and the patter of your beating scarred heart.

And yet, knowing this, I still Google search his name to just see his face.  I turn up the music he’s made, and  melt into the fantasy. It’s better than a hot toddie of tea, whiskey and honey, chased down with a shot of Drambuie.

Is there an over-the-counter medicine for the common crush?

In time, it will run its course.

Update: Good news!  The fever has broke.  The crush has been downgraded to deep admiration.