My first major crush was on my best friend's brother. One of the reasons I developed this crush in the first place was because my friend kept raving about her older brother and how awesome he was. Her stories painted him as very funny, caring and talented - and when I finally met him and saw his dimple, the 16-year-old me was a goner. I am sure he in turn saw me just as a generic blob that said "pesky younger sister's friend".
He was three years older - which, in those days, meant I would blush scarlet whenever he was around when I visited my friend's place. Thankfully, he lived in a college hostel and mostly visited home on some weekends. Even when he was in town, it's not like we spoke much - he would say “Hi”, I would mumble two incoherent words under my breath and bow my head.
I did not tell my friend about my crush - I was worried she would start teasing me in front of him. The horror! But all this came to a head one day.
My friend and I were in her room dancing to Shakira's "Hips Don't Lie". I was demonstrating a sultry belly-dancing move with an entirely age-inappropriate facial expression when the door opened and my crush was standing there.
Right at that moment I understood what "I wish the earth would open up and swallow me" meant. He guffawed, then quickly said sorry, shut the door and left.
My friend did not make much of it - she was just annoyed he had not knocked the door. But for me, that was it. That humiliation was enough to kill my dreams. After that, I went to my friend's place only when the brother was out of town and my crush soon died a forced yet natural death.
He added me on Facebook a couple of years ago and I accepted his request - but the only interaction we have had is when I "like" any of his kids' pictures.
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