It’s not like they’re all epic hotties with six packs. They’re just normal people. But I can’t seem to get there. And I can’t shake this thought: I’ve had crushes on twenty-six people, twenty-five of whom are not Lin-Manuel Miranda. Twenty-three of whom are age-appropriate, real-life, viable crush-objects. Eighteen of whom were definitely single and interested in girls at the time of my crush. And I never even tried. Not even with the ones who talked to me first. So, maybe I should let my heart break, just to prove that my heart can take it. Or at the very least, I need to stop being so
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