I just have to get this off my chest. I’ve got a celebrity crush. It’s that girl, Emma Watson. I don’t know anything about her (well some, since a crush leads to an interest to learn more), and there’s no reason why I would be so infatuated with her. I’ve only seen her in the Harry Potter movies, and even then – she was just a kid. I watched her UN speech and I just can’t help myself, my heart races when I see her.
It’s beyond ridiculous. I’m 34 years old, living with my GF since 3 years back, and I’m perfectly happy. I’m in a good place in my life, have no real worries, and I do love my GF with every fiber of my being. Yet… Here I am, a grown man, fawning over a celebrity I don’t know personally. Why this? Why me? Why now? It’s inexplicably daft.
And I can’t tell anyone. Especially not my GF. It’s not like I lay around fantasising about Watson. It’s not physical. There’s no pornyness here. She’s just… I can’t… Keep my head cool when I read about her, see her on some media, or anything.
To point out the severity of this crap – this has been going on now for weeks. Just today, as my GF is off working at the moment, I broke down crying from listening to Robyn’s “Be mine” song. Do you get that? I’m a 34 years old, emotionally stable man, with no past mental illness, crying my eyes out over the fact that myself and Emma Watson will never be a couple.
The worst part is that I feel like I’m cheating on my GF. But I’m bloody well not cheating, but it feels like I am. It’s just so damn unnecessary. Even if Emma were to show up on my doorstep right this moment, my dignity would not allow me to cheat. I’m not that kind of person, never was. Why am I getting all worked up over some stupid s*** that will never come to pass?
Yet I am. I think about her constantly. Her eyes, not their shape but the way she percieves things. Her smile, not the way her lips is improbably well suited for her face, but because what is hidden behind the smile. Her voice, not the fact that it’s trembling as she adresses the UN, but the fact that in spite of it trembling, she goes on. She doesn’t bend nor break, she doesn’t even flinch. I can’t help but love her.
… what the flying f*** is wrong with me?