The scene was right out of some contrived romantic comedy. I was standing in the dining hall, facing an array of faces I didn’t know, when I saw him. He was sitting with a group of friends, laughing and eating a bowl of midday Lucky Charms. (Have I mentioned that I always eat midday Lucky Charms? We must be soulmates.) I so desperately wanted to sit down across the table from him and strike up a conversation about the benefits of eating breakfast food at lunchtime, but my nerves got the best of me and I retreated to another table, just me and my slightly soggy cereal.
I probably sound like I’m romantically interested in this guy. Let me clarify: I’m not. And I’m not just saying that because (a) I’m in that weird denial stage during which a female’s friends must coax her into admitting her unrequited love and/or (b) my boyfriend reads this column every week. I only desperately wanted to eat lunch with this guy because of a slight — or major — friend crush. Not a crush you have on a friend, as some people who have never heard this term would think, but a crush on someone you only want to be your friend.
I collect friend crushes the way some people collect, well, actual crushes. The only difference between those people and me is that it seems much more socially acceptable to giggle about a cute guy you want to go on a date with than about someone you just want to hang out with. Why? Because in the latter situation, it should be pretty simple to just hang out with him or her. Whereas it could be difficult to approach someone you’re actually attracted to, it shouldn’t be any problem to befriend someone you have a solely platonic interest in.
I could blame my anxiety on a fear of rejection, but I don’t even really have a fear of rejection. I willingly put myself in situations ripe for rejection all the time. Maybe it’s that there’s a difference between professional rejection and personal rejection. At least if I’m rejected for an internship, it’s probably not because I wasn’t a cool enough person. It just means I need to improve my writing. Being rejected for a friendship is an entirely different story, because it’s a little harder to improve your personality.
I think I’d excel at making friends if it was some sort of application process. Not a Craigslist ad or a Match.com entry, but a resume I could send directly to the crush in question. I could do my research beforehand — as long as there’s an open Facebook profile to stalk, of course — and then use the people I’ve somehow already convinced to befriend me as references. It would be perfect, if not the epitome of social awkwardness.
Unfortunately, I can’t see that method working any time soon. So I’ll continue to gaze at the guy in the dining hall who is too intimidatingly funny or charismatic to approach. Aren’t crushes the worst?
Jessica Depies is a freshman in the College of Communication studying journalism. She can be reached at jdepies@bu.edu.
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