Obsessing Over Your Crush? Same.

Why are we so obsessed with our crushes? There’s always the realization hanging over our heads that one day the feelings might go away, the feelings may not be reciprocated, or nothing will ever move forward.

We think about the tiniest details of their life. Where are they right now? What are they doing? When will I see them next? I love this or that about them. For some of us, our “obsession” may look something like this:

Your phone lights up as you wake up to go to class. You expect it to be one of your friends asking, “How was that test?” or “Wanna get lunch tomorrow?”

And then you see his name.

That inevitable name.

The image of every individual letter’s font on your iPhone is etched into your mind. The curves and sharp lines of each letter are beautiful to you.

The instant you see that name, your sweaty hands immediately open the notification as your heart rate increases and you wait anxiously during those dreadful 2-3 seconds for your phone to unlock. Your dopamine levels are on the rise as the Instagram logo pops up at the top, right by where it shows when he posted – “11 seconds ago” it says.

You’re too late.

At least 1,372 people have “liked” and another 150 people have commented on his photo already. And although you double tap the photo and maybe even comment on it, you don’t have any hope that he’ll ever see your name or read your comment. I mean, why would he? He’s JJ Watt.

I don’t know about you, but my heart becomes a little happier and my day shines a little brighter with every Facebook post, Instagram post, tweet, or Snapchat story of my crush that I see.

Over time, we audience members can come to know an athlete or public figure pretty well, especially through social media. However, people may catch onto these trends later and become “bandwagon fans.” And that’s fine. But I believe that those new fans simply can’t have the passion I have for this man, or at least compared to those of us who have kept up with him for a while now.

Very little people truly understand this passion and sincere care I have for him. And for those of you who don’t, let me just break it down:

When he wins an award, accomplishes his dreams of meeting his favorite celebrities, or travels to his 36-acre log cabin in Wisconsin, I feel truly proud of and happy for him.

When he schedules time out of his week to meet with wounded veterans, children from broken homes, the fatally ill, and spend hours signing footballs and taking pictures with fans, I’m so proud of him, but also worry about his well-being and his heart — how does he handle all the fame?

When he breaks and sets records for most sacks or tackles, either in a season or in franchise or league history, the only thing I know how to do is smile as wide and as big as possible.

So on the nights when I’m not exhausted and fall asleep soon after tucking myself in, I curl up with my two pillows, each with his face on them, and glace at my poster of him, subconsciously knowing that he’s already been asleep for at least four hours, due to his strict sleep and workout schedule. And of course, I also think of his physical beauty: biceps the size of thighs (he actually wears a leg brace on his arm during games), icy blue eyes, tan skin with sandy blonde hair, and baby stubble surrounding his goofy smile.

For a lot of us, we know we’ll always have an appreciation for our crush. Whether this obsession is a fad or not, they’ll most likely hold a dear place in our heart as we reflect upon the memories of that person. Your crush may live across the hall from you. Or it may be someone from your home state. Your stomach gets a knot full of butterflies when you think of seeing them next. And when you do see them, you really try to keep it all together, thinking, “Hey! This might be the one!”

But for me, my crush lives in the same city that I’m from and visit often. I could potentially run into him at any time when I’m home, especially since we frequent some of the same restaurants.

But I guess a girl can only dream that the smile from that 6’5” body I see on the screen of my TV, computer, or phone will look down at me one day and say, “hello.”