I Have a Crush on A Friend

Have you ever been so wildly attracted to someone you can actually feel it driving you insane? Have you ever been scared to open a text? Your heart races, your stomach feels empty? Personally I couldn’t hide this anymore. I know by now what you are thinking. That one person who causes your heart to skip a beat just by seeing her. Don’t worry, I feel you. I have a friend who causes me to smile, glow, joy, crave, go blank, feel, tense, make my heart skip a beat, not once, but twice. I’m going through that currently. I still get butterflies even though I’ve seen her for a hundred times. She is the kind of friend I’m scared to lose. She is the secret I can’t hide. I feel deprived of oxygen when I spend days without hearing from her.

You should see her. You know that smile you get when that one person you’ve been wanting to talk to finally texts you? It surely happens to me everytime I hear that text tone on my phone and find out it’s her. She causes me to go from crazy to crazier. I can’t prevent myself from giggling to her jokes, I don’t care whether they are funny or lame. Her eyes are like bright, brown, flowers on a black island floating on a lake of milk. They hold the most breathtaking galaxies you could ever imagine. She got stars for eyes and cheese smile, more of a crescent for a smile.  Her glance is a sunlight, but distorted, as though a thin, uniform sheet of latticed ice lay between her eyes and I. Refracting that intensity, leaving you at once mysterious, inviting, caged, aloof, pensive. And her laugh… gosh her laugh… there is not a more beautiful sound. She could melt a hard ice cold heart like an ice lolly in the mid of January. I would snuggle with a faint smile and stare at her all day. I don’t care whether she ever bleats like a goat when laughing, to me I’ll find it cute. She does not have to dress half naked to create attention. I wouldn’t mind if she silenced me with a kiss from her rosy lips, to my lips, if I seem to talk too much. What about when she says my name? It causes a shiver down my spine. I will personally pretend I’m not hearing her, just for her to call me one more time next time we meet.

She got that 80% angel and 20% devil in her. A day with her overwhelms me with happiness. A conversation with her kills all the wrong vibe in me. In all my braveness, there is a shy side masquerading as false courage in her presence. I know I’m in my “hoe-ages”, but she’s worth the sacrifice to leave the age this early. I fear that one of these days I may say the wrong words with my big mouth and cause her to think wrong of me. In my world, she is my Snow White, but I don’t know whether I’m her Prince Charming in hers. I look at her, and I’m so damn stumped whether she recognizes me, whether I’m her type of man. I lack words to describe her. I should go back to drawing. Where I could rush with my paints and easels to immortalize the way her hair rests and hangs on her shoulder, and the way her tongue pokes out between her teeth when she smiles. I wouldn't mind having a world tour with her.

Her hugs are worth the longing. Even if I’m covered with goose bumps, I always feel like I’m burning up. Thousands of years would still not give me half enough time to describe that tiny instant of all eternity when she puts her arms around me and I put my arms around her. I wouldn’t mind to stay curled, raised and chocolated in her arms all day. I would stroke her hair just to comfort her. You know that moment when you hug somebody, when your heart feels warm and high in your chest and tingly? When you feel just for a second like a baby in a womb… that nothing matters? That’s the feeling I would like to give her for the rest of her meaningful life. She got the brains of Margaret Kenyatta and charisma and looks of Julie Gichuru. But who I’m I to her? I don’t even have the masculine looks of Jason Statham, height of Will Smith, face of David Beckham, voice and accent of Idris Elba or even the multitalents of Chris Brown. I don't think I have the capability to hold her down. I don't think I'm "hot" enough for her (Imagine how "hot" I'd look if I ate well and kept my body fit? I'm not going to do it, but just imagine, hehe...). I’m just an ordinary guy raised in the rural area.

She does not have even the slightest clue how I feel about her. But I always wish the feeling is mutual. Even if it’s a fraction of a fraction of a fraction. I fear she already found her better half, but it’s not me. I wish I were a better poet because I would write a better poem everyday to her than the one before. I wish I could wrap my feelings in a well decorated box and deliver them to her every morning before she leaves the house just to brighten her all day. She is the kind of lady I want to share my wild fantasies with. A lady worth answering the phone to at three in the morning because she can’t sleep. On valentines, I would personally cook for her and enjoy the meal to the sweet aroma in a room lit with a few red scented candles scattered all over evenly. I can’t wait for her to read this and await her personal view on it, and yet she still will be on the dark it’s all about her.

I wanna get lost forever in this feeling I have. Is this all an illusion in my mind or should I tell her how I feel? Can’t wait for that one question everybody is going to ask me after this.

It wouldn’t hurt to share…