Okay, so theres a guy I like, but hes kindof a jock. I dont really know how to talk to him... We dont have classes together or anything. And mind you, im in middle school so I cant.drive or anything. Do you have any advice on how we could talk? PS: I cant use the indtroductory stuff, because I already know him on an aquaintence level!
Ooooooh, thanks for the question, anonymous!
This is a tough one for us because we’ve never been very good at talking to our crushes. That being said, we’ve come up with a little bit of advice. Hope it helps!
Try showing up at public/school events that you know he’ll be at (Sports games? Algebra study sessions? Ice cream socials? Sock hops? Sorry, it’s been a while since we’ve been in middle school). The more you run into each other, the more chance there is that you’ll strike up a conversation naturally. Wouldn’t that be nice?
Try smiling in his general direction. Here’s a neat trick: the next time you’re talking to your friends and he’s around, just shoot him a glance when you’re already mid-smile. You’ll look friendly AND approachable.
If all that seems too indirect, you could try cracking a joke about cafeteria food/too much homework/Charlie Sheen’s tiger blood the next time you see him in the hallway. Or ask him what he’s listening to on his ipod, comment on the hockey game, or whatever. Basically anything that gets you talking about common interests is fantastic! Just remember to relax and try not to over think it.
A heartbreaking story of trickery, text messaging, and betrayal. This doozy of a chestburster was sent to us by Roxy Cotton. Keep the submissions coming, guys!
There was this guy named Michael and one day his close friend Paul, who was also my friend, told me that Michael likes me. I always thought Michael was cute, but it wasn’t until Paul told me this that I really started paying attention to him.
Throughout the next month, I really fell for Michael. I developed one of those deep, heart throbbing crushes on him. My heart began to ache for him and I thought about him every second of every day. Nothing was really developing between me and Michael because he seemed really shy around me and didn’t talk to me all that much. Paul told me that Michael doesn’t have a lot of experience with girls and doesn’t really know how to talk to them. At this point a month had passed since Paul told me about Michael. Paul and I often texted about Michael, because Paul always seemed like he was trying to get him to talk to me and break out of his comfort zone.
One day, I was walking into the school library and I walked in on Paul reading my text messages out loud to Michael and one of their fellow football players. They were all laughing and in that moment, I felt my heart sink to my feet. Following a very awkward confrontation with Paul and Michael, I learned that Paul made up the entire story of Michael liking me and Michael told me he only wants to be friends.
Later, Michael texted me apologizing for hurting my feelings, but by then it was too late. Three months later, I still have the most painful, heart throbbing crush on Michael. It hurts so much to not be able to be with him. When Paul had me convinced that Michael liked me back, I truly felt like the happiest person in the world. I saw that happiness disappear in a split second at that moment in the library, and now I’m stuck with this feeling of complete misery and longing for something that will never happen. The worst part, I never would have even started liking Michael if Paul had never said anything.
I like this guy at my university, and we're on student government together. Therefore, we'll see each other and talk pretty often. This is good because I see him often, but it's bad because I express that I like him at the risk making him feel uncomfortable around me if he doesn't feel the same way. Awkwardness is not an option because we work together so often. I'm apprehensive about flirting with him at the risk of being too obvious.
What should I do? Thanks :)
Thank you so much for your question!
Firstly, over here at the Chestbursters blog, awkwardness is a way of life. We’re afraid there’s just going to be some amount of crush-induced anxiety no matter how you slice it. (Take a look at this scientific chart. See? That’s science right there).
However, with some effort and just a little bit of luck the awkwardness can be significantly reduced. You seem to be wanting to test out the crush-waters a little. You’re in luck because we’re experts at subtle flirting (in fact most of the time no one even knows we’re flirting. They just think we’re very stand-offish, sweaty people).
Have you ever tried leaning in close to him when you’re talking? Now might be a good time to give that old standby a try. Smiling when he enters the room and making cute eye contact can always be played off as “friendliness” (not the worst thing in the world). If he seems open, you can start suggesting school/student government-related hang outs.
If he does like you, he’ll hopefully reciprocate in kind. If he doesn’t, then he’ll probably just think you’re a swell girl. NO BIG DEAL.
I was in kindergarten. He was also in kindergarten. His name was Alex. I’m okay with admitting this, one, because he has since moved many states away from me, and two, because it was kindergarten.
He was dreamy in my eyes. I thought we were perfect for each other.
Eventually, summer came. I forgot about him, and wanted to play with my best friend and neighbor all day. When school came the next year, I wasn’t in his class anymore. I didn’t worry about him too much.
As I grew up, we were in more and more classes together. My crush on him had never really gone away, and I always kept him as an “option” in my mind.
Then 8th grade came. We were in every single class together, and I realized how weird I was in kindergarten. Alex was WEIRD. He talked to himself. But not in English, in Spanish. He was not Spanish.
Then, he moved. Never to be heard from (by me, at least) again.
Transcribed text messages, 2009 Contributed by Elizabeth Allen (an American living in Armenia at the time)
Levon was a Georgian guy from Gori who played soccer with a regional team in Armenia. I met him on a train coming home to Armenia from Georgia. We spent the 12-hour train ride drinking homemade wine, making out and talking (with a lot of confusion and miming because I speak no Georgian and very little Russian and he spoke very little English or Armenian).
We said goodbye when we got to Yerevan and he took my phone number. I went back to my village and Levon went to the south of Armenia where his soccer team was practicing but he would text me whenever there was a game in Yerevan and try to get me to go meet there again.
I was always tempted to, but didn’t because it’s so shameful for unmarried women to go out with men anywhere here, and it was so embarrassing that we had this lack of common language. My phone number changed and I lost the actual messages, but they were pretty close to this:
my hapi beirsday babi. when we can meeting?
i kis yuo gud nayt
when erevan yuo come? we ar futbol game this 25. after meeting yuo and me. o k?
"Why does love hurt so bad?" Song for River Phoenix, written c. 1986, rerecorded 2010 Contributed by Anisa Cameron
When I was nine years old, I was desperately in love with River Phoenix. I was completely obsessed, and you must understand that crushing obsessions were much more difficult in the days just before the Internet. One who was besotted couldn’t just google the object of their adoration and be immersed in an ocean of images, videos, blog posts and the like. No, you had to subscribe to teen magazines such as Bop! and Tiger Beat! and gaze forever at the 2 or 3 images they would have of your dreamboat.
Well, it just so happens that I was an avid subscriber to Bop! magazine and they had a page of addresses in the middle of the issues where you could send fan mail to the stars. Yes, like, mail, mail. You had to write with pen and paper all of your deepest desires and fondest wishes to these heartthrobs. I imagined some kind of round table where these letters to River Phoenix would be opened, perhaps by paid employees or girls just as infatuated as I was, who had on t-shirts and buttons and left their greasy Lip Smacker kisses on the glossy and torn pages of Bop! magazine.
My name is Morgan and I have a crush on CBC radio host Jian Ghomeshi. Now I realize that the obvious crush when it comes to CBC geeks of my age demographic is probably The Strombo and that declaring my crush on Jian probably lands me in the company of a bunch of Moxy Früvous fans and grey-hairs who dig Canada Reads. I, however am simply not a George kinda girl and prefer the radio to the TeeVee anyhow.
Having a Crush on a radio personality is really the easiest kind of crush to have. You get to hear their voice everyday in a comfortable and intimate setting (in my case, my kitchen) and you never have to worry about how you look or what they might think of you… because they don’t know you! You never have to talk to them and you can ALWAYS pretend that they are talking only to you. It’s the kind of crush that I generally file under the “fake crush” heading since the usual emotional turmoil that accompanies a real crush doesn’t come into play. The trouble with having a crush on a minor Canadian celebrity is that they are so darn accessible and this can really lead to trouble…and trouble, dear readers is where I am about to take you.
I went to a religious high school…and not only that, I was also raised religious. Being the extremist that I am I have gone back and forth between having my religious blinders firmly fixed and then taking them right off. When I take them off, I often feel the pain of the alienation I have forced on myself during my more pious phases. I didn’t kiss anyone till I was 23 because that would have made me a “slut” which would have been my choice word for girls that had any interest in boys.
Because of this, I was always very good at saying no to dates without hesitation. This is a note that I wrote to a boy who almost fooled me into going on a date with him in college. But being fresh out of my religious haven of high school I wasn’t going to be swayed.
I just read this for the first time in nine years and I swear I felt a pain in me that brought a tear to each of my eyes. The year that I graduated from high school the expression I heard the most (I would even go so far as to call it the school’s catch phrase) was, “This is the Real World,” a world where the only thing boys and girls were allowed to be was friends.
We were told that we were going to be leaving “The Real World” when we graduated and that we had to try to bring it with us. I guess I did a really great job of “bringin’ it.”
Below is the boy’s tricky response to me. I never paged him.