Lovers of Literature

I realized just now that this will mark the first post where I share a real-life crush with all you lovely readers out there.

Ooh, pressure's on.

Right, so -- poetry class. I signed myself up for this creative writing course during the second year of my undergrad degree (Winter 2006). I was bubbly and bright-eyed at the thought of meeting other writers and sharing collections of poems and just generally exploring the English language for the sport of it.

And there she was.

I get distracted easily, it would appear.

She was a year older than me, a theatre major with a penchant for Shakespeare's Ophelia, and.... she had this pesky boyfriend by the name of Mark. *Mumble, grumble* I guess I can't complain too much, though -- I met her while I was in the middle of a brief experimentation with the hetero world. I suppose you could say my crush on her helped me confirm my queerness. (I know, she was THAT gorgeous, if you can imagine.)

On Tuesday afternoons, I was given the gift of three precious, poetry-laden hours with the Girl Wonder herself. From January to April, she and I sat beside one another and exchanged verse filled with our fantasies, our insecurities, and other aspects of our private lives. She tried to convince me of the merits of Margaret Atwood (who is still my sworn literary enemy, FYI) and I tried to convince her that girls were far hotter than boys. 

Alright, that last one is a lie -- it's what I wanted to do, trust me. But heck, to be the semester confidante of a girl like that was still a nice concession. And getting to share poetry with her on a weekly basis only helped to sweeten the deal.

And hey, she also taught me the sheer hotness that home-made Valentine's gifts can be. That year, she made a sensual board game for her boyfriend that ended with -- SURPRISE! Sex. I believe her direct description was "That way, EVERYONE WINS." *Melts*

I lost touch with her once our notebooks were shut for the semester, though. Ah, the tragedy, the lament! It's the stuff of epic poems.... or, well, at least an angst-ridden sonnet or two. I saw her in one or two other English lectures, but we were running with two different crowds and never seemed to cross paths again. Still, I look back on those times with a grin and a twirly heart, no doubt.

And, on an odd twist -- I saw her once again on stage at the 2007 GQE Kink Night performing in a burlesque show with another one of my major undergrad crushes. 

See? Maybe not all tragedies end in tears. No, sometimes, they end with partial nudity and a seductive, public striptease. 

I would definitely recommend the latter.