The rain pours off the top of the sandstone cliffs creating a waterfall which nearly blocks our view of the cove. Thunder rumbles. He looks around and back up at me and says with a slight accent, “I’m sure it is going to pass.” I know that it is going to take at least another hour so I mention that we should hike a little further to see if there are any dry routes ahead. He moves toward me, as if to take my bag, but then moves in close. I feel his heat pass through my clothing where our bodies touch. His hands fold over my shoulder and low back and he moves his head towards mine.
I stop him.
“I’m sorry. I can’t… ”
Then, my eyes open. I’m no longer in ‘The Wilds’ and I feel immediate disappointment. Even in my dreams I’m monogamous. Or perhaps I am that picky about hair color? (I have a type, ok?) I’ll need to have a little chat with my subconscious.
I extract myself from bed and waddle my way into the bathroom. My lower body feels as if it is a giant bruise from my knees to my low back. Yesterday’s 2 hour long workout destroyed me. Time for a hot – cold shower. Among other things, a shower is a great tool for recovery from both sexy dreams about your crush and for tired muscles.
It is a Saturday and I have nothing planned except for back to back workouts and eating. I have distilled my life down to the most essential elements since my partner is out of texting, email and cell range for two more weeks.
Eat. Sleep. Work. Workout. Climb. Hike. Socialize. This is my life right now – a perpetual kairos.
As a geobachelor, I spend a bit of time in a second home due to my partner’s availability. Their work and training tempo is oftentimes unpredictable so the option to relocate to someplace with friends, mountains and climbing is a wonderful privilege.
Yet, no matter how wonderful my partner is or how privileged I am, I have a semi- celebrity crush. This is a first for me since I’m fiercely and occasionally, stupidly, loyal. It is a quality that I didn’t know I possessed. At least until I began surgically distancing myself from any person who cheated on a partner. I’ve even confronted a friend (or two) to let them know, “You keep doing this and you will find yourself without me in your life.”
Initially, having a crush while in a relationship was difficult for me. It was hard to see that my fancy could be devoted to my partner and yet also be drawn to this other person. But, after nearly a year of having this crush, I managed to deal with the nuisances.
They live on the other side of the planet and while I find them attractive, I know that if we were to meet, we probably would not have the magnetic attraction to each other as I’ve imagined. I do come from a long line of mean country women after all.
Ultimately, having a semi-sorta celebrity crush is like a Nicki Minaj feature on a track.
You can listen to her verses and ignore the rest of the song because the rest of the song sucks.
My fantasy of them as a person or as a lover could be the better part of this reality. That is the beauty of having an unattainable crush. The objective reality of a person is left to your imagination with the help of how well they cultivate their persona on social media. Who can really say what they are like in person?
Not you. Thankfully.
So while I occasionally find myself and my crush at my dream crag feeling the sort of sexual tension typically reserved for highschool students or dirty politicians, I know that my crush is a reckoning of what I need them to be in order for me to find them attractive. They are not only unattainable in a real sense but also they have already been set to the unattainable standard created by my imagination.
Anyway – creep on creepy.