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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Meet my new girlfriend. Her name is Meg. And she’s my little sweetheart. A couple of months ago, a neighbor across the street told me about a new stray in the neighborhood that she and I were both soon feeding. The cat had been very skittish about contact and she had a lot of scabs and parasites in her fur, but a trip to the vet last week revealed that she was otherwise in good health. The vet estimates her to be 1 to 2 years old. I named her for Meg Murry, the 13-year-old protagonist of Madeleine L’Engle’s wonderful book, “A Wrinkle in Time.” (Please read the book. Don’t watch the horrible movie.) Since we lost Lucy almost a year ago, it seems appropriate that we finally have a new little girl to join the household. She’s already captured my heart, but Alex, Oliver and Sam aren’t there quite yet.

There’s nothing socially acceptable that’s as dangerous as drinking alcohol. Most people grow up being told to “drink responsibly” — and all of us see people abusing this drug in one way or another — but the truth is that drinking alcohol is always a terrible risk. The alcohol in these drinks is toxic and the human liver has to work hard to filter the toxins out. What most people don’t realize is that alcohol is classified as a known carcinogen by the World Health Organization — because of the well-established connection between imbibing and various cancers. Many people have taken refuge behind the idea that light or moderate drinking might be safe, but a new study shows that drinking even one drink a day increases the risks of 10 types of cancer. When I was a teen-ager, I looked around and saw the negative effects that this behavior had on a lot of people and decided not to start drinking, so I’ve never even tried this poison. The evidence keeps piling up that I was lucky to have come to that conclusion early.

It hasn’t happened yet, but there’s a possibility that I might be taking in a fourth feline. A couple of months ago, a cat-loving neighbor asked whether I’d seen a “tuxedo cat” hanging out in the neighborhood. I hadn’t, but this guy eventually wandered past my house a few weeks later — and we haven’t been able to find evidence that he has a home. I’ve been giving him water and food for the last week and he finally let me pet him two nights ago. He’s purred for me two nights in a row and he let me take a low-quality selfie with him Thursday night. Tonight, though, he let me pick him up and bring him inside to look around. This went surprisingly well, as you can see from this photo. I don’t know whether he’ll be joining the family, but I’m certain that Alex, Oliver and Sam would vote no, at least until they get to know him. I’m trying to make certain he doesn’t have a home, but if he does join us, what do you suppose his name will be?

It turns out that the radical far left has been training “Antifa cats” to sabotage anything important to Donald Trump. Everything he did was perfect. Honest. It was all the cats’ fault. Arrest all the cats! This is the latest of my ridiculous satirical shorts. Please go watch it. Then “like” it and subscribe. Please. I’m begging you. (Too much?) Although a couple of the previous videos have had views in the hundreds, most have still been seen by fewer than 20 people. So I seem to be having trouble letting people know that page exists.

Here’s the latest of my ridiculous parody shorts. It crossed my mind Tuesday to wonder what a slick and fast-talking car dealer might do right now to try to turn the high price of gasoline to his advantage. So I conceived of a fat and lovable character who tried to sell cars that don’t use any fuel — and then I started wondering if it would be funnier if all the characters were felines. Designing the King Cashpaw character took about four hours, but the rest took only another four hours, so this was a relatively quick piece that virtually wrote itself. I know it’s almost impossible for these parody videos to find a larger audience, but at least they amuse me — and there are 19 of them on my YouTube page now. The first few were very limited, but they’re getting more complex.

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