The real stuff 'aint anywhere as interesting because there's generally not pictures and arguments about whether someone IS fanciable. But....
I was a lanky, spotty, ugly, geeky kid with terrible hair and no confidence so had plenty time to develop and harbour crushes that would never, and could never, come to anything.
At primary school I once cried myself to sleep because Nicola Macintosh didn't fancy me. For a while she practically filled every pre-pubescent thought.
At secondary there were two objects of affection.
Joanne Kenyon was simply stunning. Very quiet. Much older boyfriend with a car. She once donated money to a sponsored thing I was doing and I kept the sponsorship form for a year because she'd written on it. I vaguely knew her brother (who ended up in prison for some rather unsavoury stuff, and about whom I once got a bottle smashed over my head in a bizarre case of 'sort of' mistaken identity).
But the ongoing one, through the whole of secondary, I can't even at the moment remember the name of (Louise Taylor rings a bell but just doesn't sound 'right'). Needless to say she was really part of the 'in' crowd, and we were house captains together in 6th year. Earlier than that (in third year I think) we were both on the same French exchange trip and she simply tormented me the whole trip (the one time I smoked was that trip because she'd offered me the fag).
I can still remember a trip to a castle somewhere near Besancon and I was sitting in one of the big windows and she leant over my legs to look out and my adolescent mind went wild as her already adequately formed breasts rested on my legs. That moment kept me going until I got my first girlfriend.
When I was 20.
Secret crushes are fecking painful in those circumstances!
EDIT: Lynne Reid was her name! Lousie Taylor was a crush at uni! We were great friends, until I asked her out. By email.
