So many of my recent columns have focused tirelessly on break-ups, how to get rid of guys, when to rip off the band aid and march on and soon. Before this string of sad columns centered around what can only rightly be called “the end,” there was “the beginning.” Hell, I nearly forgot about the blissful, bashful, blithering beginning…until now.

I have a crush - just a little crush but a crush nonetheless. It’s been so long since I’ve had a legitimate crush who wasn’t an ego-serving maniac boasting about his latest “deal” or a dowdy sneak manipulating me into giving out my number, I can hardly remember what to do. Yes, you read correctly. I’m not sure what to do. Normally I’m relentlessly pursued before the crush, on my part, develops. Rarely, have I developed a bit of a friendship before said courting and in the present case, I can’t tell that courting has even ensued. I can’t tell anything actually because I can’t get a read on the situation. I'm too nervous to properly assess.

Now I’m all “What do I do?” My normally outgoing flirtation has been muted by my new found constant and painful awareness of my every move. Did he just see me fussing over my hair? Was that joke was totally moronic? Is he flirting with me or does he act like this with everyone? I think I said 'like' like ten times? I’m so self-aware (see also: self-conscious) that I can’t even tell if I’m flirting at all. Maybe he doesn’t even know I fancy him. How do I know if he knows?

My instinct is to tactfully plan out how to obtain said crush without drawing attention to my plan - to place myself in the right place at the right time, to do some research into his friends, interests, etc. You know, strategize; and I'm good at strategizing. This time, however, my proverbial stomach butterflies and artless categorization of thoughts has rendered me unable to fathom a good strategy. I am being reserved! Not because I am trying to play hard to get but because I am not playing anything at all. Who am I? I don’t even know this girl inside of me.

Thus I have decided, almost unconsciously really, to repress my relentless daydreams of rolling around half-naked in the sand with my crush and let it grow organically. There is no sand around here anyway. Does that mean I’m being recreant? Probably. But maybe letting go of my city dating neurosis and giving into my rarely seen shy side (you didn't even know it existed, did you?) means the universe's synergy will decide for me. Plus the crush faze is so fun, I have no desire to move it along. Nope. No desire at all…

…until the ultra competitive me dominates the new shy, reserved me and I cannot live another day until I prove I can, and will, obtain that which I desire. Then I’ll write a ‘how to’ on baiting and reeling in your crush. I'm sure when that will be, but this organic giddiness can’t last that long, right?

Originally posted for Daily Vogue on April 17, 2010 at http://thevoguecity.com/my-crush

Emma Dinzebach