THE UGLY SIDE OF A CRUSH

So, it's Saturday night, 11.30 p.m. You could be doing anything in the world, partying away into oblivion, or reading that new book you just ordered, even climbing that mountain you have been planning to climb since forever. Anything. You could do anything. But instead, here you are, on a Saturday night lying dejectedly on the bed, checking your phone fervently, once in every two minutes, may be twice, sometimes in a surge of desperation even thrice. Desperate. Waiting. Hoping. Not hoping. Despairing. All the while berating yourself for being such a loser. Since when did you start obsessing over a boy? You are the one who used to tell your girlfriends 'no guy is worth it' and 'I told you so' and here you are telling yourself so the same thing over and over again all the while letting out deep sighs one after the other waiting for the phone to beep. Is this how you raised yourself young lady? Or may be it is. The heart wants what it wants they tell you. But sometimes it's the conceited brain which wants it's share of encouragement. Especially when you feel he is out of your league. More when he makes you wait as opposed to the general rule. You know the roles have been reversed and you feel threatened because it's your pride which is at stake rather than your heart. And you might lose your heart in the process, but it is better than losing your pride. So who you are actually obsessing over is yourself, not that boy, wanting to be worth it, worth having for every one that you want to have. So you wait, wait for him to be into you, all the while feeling that you aren't good enough. Because well, if you would be, why would you wait anyway? You know it is a mistake but you make it anyway.
Because that is how this game is played, you know too well. Only what you don't know now is that you are the one who is playing you not him. But you do know now why they call it a 'crush'.