Most everyone has had a high school crush. Oh the drama of it! Whether acted upon or not (in my case, not) it affects you profoundly. That dreadful part of the mind, the positive swamp of feelings, passively stagnant for so long, suddenly is stirred about, and all sorts of unwonted things come forward. Most teenagers say it is true love, they believe it, they live it, they love this "love."
But those few teens with logical minds (whom I fancy myself among) suffer horribly. I recognize it as a crush, something that will be meaningless to me in the long run, shallow, et cetera. Yet I can not stop myself getting caught up in this mess. Curse feelings, you clouded illusions: how I wish to cast you off and see clearly!
I know this is not love, logically it cannot be. Now I know emotions and logic do not go together, but be patient reader, explanations follow. I hardly know the person in question. I find myself envisioning his personality instead of actively seeking to know it. I am projecting the personality I wish him to have onto him, ignoring what is already there. I realize this, I see this, but I cannot stop myself doing it.
And here, you see, is the awful realization where teenage hormones come in contact with introverted thinking, and an underdeveloped extroverted feeling attempts to come into play.
The hormones of course are the main source of the problem, illogical and impossible things that they are. Wreaking havoc and flitting in and out without pattern or explanation.
The Fe attempts to judge the other person's own feelings, but in reality just blunders about making a mess of my mind. Like lazy coworkers, whom you cannot prove aren't working because you don't really know what their job is.
The Ti, normally incredibly helpful and decisive, is at a loss. In a field where logic means literally nothing, Ti is useless. In fact, it is worse than useless, it is a complete drawback. While it attempts to present results of systematic analyzation, it is ignored by its fellows.
And I am stuck containing all of these conflicting forces. I listen to the Ti carefully, but am prevented from acting upon it by the hormones. I look expectantly to the Fe so as to figure out how to react to all these things, but the poor thing isn't ready for such a job as this.
Reader, I do not expect nor want pity nor acknowledgement of my current internal struggle. If I did I would not be presenting this anonymously, would I? But I must have an outlet for such things, so you will excuse my pathetic melodrama.
