these inconvenient fireworks

Remember my 17-year-old crush? I do. I didn't remember that I'd reused a blog title, though. Hate that.

Well, it's gotten worse. I still tend to look fondly on the young man mentioned in the post linked above, and I like to tease his sister that I'm only friends with her so she can get me close to him (it hasn't worked, haven't seen him in at least a month -- or whenever the school musical was ;) ...). But what's gotten worse is that I now have a crush on a ... wait for it...

10-year-old.

I'm actually not sure that's how old he is; I've not asked. But he's between 9 and 12 for sure. Every time I see him my heart goes pit-pat (not pitter-patter, I'm not at that stage of crushing yet). Often when I glance at him he's looking back at me; I think he admires me. There's a lot to admire, I admit. And when he smiles -- goodness. He is so cute. And he sings well. And he's not very mean. I saw him teasing one of the other kids once, I think, but that's what boys do with each other. They pull their stools out from underneath them. So it's okay.

I look forward to choir so I can see him, catch his eyes on me, smile at him (and the other children). I think it's even his turn for the roller coaster next week, so I'll even talk to him. I'm excited.

...

Yes, new lows. This isn't as bad as the absolutely hopeless crush I had on Dan when I was in 9th grade, he was in 7th. Or the crush I had on a sophomore when I was a senior. That was pretty severe too.

But still. Why can't I fall in love with someone my own age? This is starting to get ridiculous.