What’s the point of a secret crush if heart isn’t ready to accept love?

By David McElroy · November 21, 2017

Thanksgiving has taken on an entirely different meaning for me lately. Three years ago, I was in the midst of intense love — something I thought was going to last for a lifetime. And then it was over in a flash, leaving me bewildered and hurt.

Each time Thanksgiving week rolls around now, it brings a bittersweet swirl of intense feelings — a remembrance of sweet love mixed with the bitter pain of loss. I’m not sure which feeling is stronger, but every bit of it is powerfully intense.

I was lost in my thoughts as I left the office for lunch today. Since it’s two days before Thanksgiving, few people are on campus, so the lobby was empty and silent as I walked through.

As I was about to step out of the building, I realized someone else was approaching from the other side of the lobby, so I absent-mindedly held the door as this woman approached. Then I noticed it was someone I hadn’t seen lately.

Allison used to stop by my office a lot last year, enough that I felt as though I knew her pretty well. She had talked with me about an ex-boyfriend, one who I encouraged her to dump because he treated her badly. (He even treated her cat badly. Don’t ever trust a person who treats animals poorly.) When she had told me last year that she had dumped the guy, I’d been happy for her.

Allison is tall and beautiful, at least to my way of thinking. She has gorgeous blue eyes and striking blonde hair. In our culture, some people wouldn’t see her as beautiful simply because she’s bigger than the waif-life standards of the day. She’s six feet tall and has a body style halfway between athletic and chubby, but I find her very attractive. She’s in her late 20s and she’s close to graduating from here.

“Allison, where have you been?” I asked as she got close enough for me to hug her. I was genuinely happy to see her. “Did you drop out of school or something? I haven’t seen you all semester.”

She told me she was still in school but she had been busy. I asked what she had been so busy with. She just smiled a broad smile and held up her left hand to show me a diamond engagement ring.

She explained that she had met a man last summer while she wasn’t taking any classes and they had dated ever since. He had just given her the ring a few days ago. She was obviously happy.

“Oh, darn,” I joked. “I’ve missed my chance with you. I’m just sorry you never had a thing for fat older men.”

We both laughed and then she smiled warmly.

“It’s funny that you say that,” she said. “I used to have the worst crush on you last year. I kept dropping hints, but you never seemed interested and then I met Nick.”

In a split second, several thoughts went through my mind, but the biggest one was disappointment. Why hadn’t I noticed this romantic interest of hers? What clues had I missed?

I felt stunned and frustrated. Why hadn’t I noticed? How much different might my life be if I’d realized her interest and started dating her? Maybe she could have been engaged to me instead of Nick. Everything could have been different.

But in the long moment before I responded — as I looked into those beautiful blue eyes — I realized that nothing would have been different if I had known of her interest at the time.

We chatted a bit more — and I said all the right things — and then we went our separate ways. I got into my car and sat there thinking about what I’d just heard — and what I’d felt.

By all practical considerations, Allison would have been a great match for me. She’s smart, funny, beautiful and creative. We share a lot in common. It would make sense, at least in my head.

But she’s not what my heart wants. And my heart is stubborn.

If I had known of her interest last year, I might have forced myself to be interested in return. At the very least, I would have been flattered. My ego would have enjoyed it. I might have gone out with her. I might have even enjoyed her company. But I could never have been fair to her.

My heart was already occupied.

I can love only one person at a time and I don’t seem to have any say about who my stubborn heart loves. Even if she doesn’t want me, my heart waits for a phone call that my brain knows will never come. Until my heart gives up, nobody else has a chance with me. Even Allison.

I’m flattered that Allison was interested in me. That Nick guy is lucky to have her. I never consciously noticed that she was interested, but I see now it would have made no difference.

When Allison and I talked last year, my mind was right there with her — but my heart was a thousand miles away. That’s why I never noticed. And that’s why this is another bittersweet Thanksgiving week for me. All alone.

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On a live awards show Sunday night, one man made a joke about a female celebrity. The husband of the celebrity was offended and hit the man who made the joke. Or maybe it was staged for entertainment. Who knows? Who cares? Social media is full of discussion — and even arguments — about this idiocy today. This baffles me. Let’s assume for a moment that the event happened as reported. People have been having such idiotic fights ever since there have been humans. Half the bars in the world see such brief dustups regularly. It simply doesn’t matter. The fact that so many people believe they need to talk about this — or even need to have opinions about it — is more evidence of the bizarre media brainwashing that convinces many to care passionately about brain-dead trivia. Your life will be happier and saner if you focus on yourself, your family and your friends, not on whatever scripted (or spontaneous) bilge that the media wants to pipe into your home.

I’m in the middle of migrating this website to new servers this week. This means you might encounter some unexpected behavior until I get all the bugs worked out. Clicking on my links (including this one) might cause your browser to give you the message that it’s a site without a current security certificate. It’s not actually unsafe, but there’s something which isn’t yet set up for the security certificate. I apologize for any such errors you might encounter while the process is going on. If you notice any problems with content which didn’t migrate properly, I would appreciate you letting me know the details at davidmcelroy@mac.com. Thanks for your patience.

I often wonder what animals think when they look at us and consider the society we’ve created. Yes, I know this is fanciful and unrealistic, but what if they could? Would they be astounded at how we treat each other? Would they be disgusted by the ugliness and pettiness which fill so many of our daily interactions? The truth is that I’m feeling pretty disgusted with humanity tonight. I made the mistake of reading some online interactions that I should have avoided — and it sickened me. The people involved appeared to be vile and stupid and arrogant. I wish I could pretend they’re a tiny minority, but I know better. It’s times such as this when I most need to escape much of “civilization” and disconnect from their world. If humans are going to be worthy of “ruling this planet,” we have a lot of growth to do. And I fear that growth is nowhere in sight. So my buddy Thomas, above, and all of his friends would be right to judge us harshly — and to think, “Why do you folks get to be in charge?”

I should have expected this, but I honestly didn’t. The article I wrote last week about disagreements over treatment for autistic children brought me angry emails. You could almost call it “hate mail.” Of the five emails about it so far, two have been to tell me that I’m wrong to even listen to critics of the most popular therapy for autistic children — and the other three tell me I’m wrong for not condemning the treatment as the “obvious” abuse it is. If you read the article, you know I didn’t take a position on the issue, because I simply don’t know enough to have an opinion. But by talking about the issue, I stepped into a heated controversy. The emails from the two sides convinced me of nothing. But they did give me even more empathy for the unfortunate parents who have to figure out for themselves where the truth lies for their children.

Have you ever had what you thought was a new idea — and then discovered that “old you” had the same idea years ago? I had that experience tonight. And it’s been wonderful. I came up with an idea tonight for a very short satirical film that would be a promotion for a fictitious college. The point is to make the college promote — as good things — everything which is actually terrible about most modern colleges. Then I remembered a fake college that I invented back when I was in college. I had created student recruitment brochures and various newsletters back then, so I decided to call my “new” college by the same name I’d invented years ago: Ochita College. As I searched my computer for any old material I might still have about Ochita from the past, I discovered an email I sent to someone in 2009 — outlining essentially the same idea which I came up with tonight. Since I didn’t remember writing that, it felt like magic. So my next film project just might be this one instead. If all goes well, you might soon see “Ochita College: Your Future Starts Here.” This should be fun.

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