Craig Daily Press

Craig — Remember when you were little, let’s say in kindergarten, and your older cousins would drill you with questions?

Over time the questions went from pop quizzes on the ABCs to queries about your college major.

There is one question that always sticks from preschool until you get married. That question is, “Do you have a boyfriend?”

For the younger audience, the question could be “Is there any boy in particular that you play with during recess?”

I hated that question.

Because when I was young, boys were never a priority. Playing basketball was more important. And I didn’t pick boys for my team in fifth grade based on their appearance but on their skill.

In high school I ditched the rumor that boys had cooties, and started to explore the opposite sex. And by explore I mean talk to one boy by my locker and during passing period for a week or two and then find a new one.

An action I define as, flinging, where one dates quickly through boys by just getting to know them briefly and having no emotional attachment.

“What ever happened to you and what’s his name?” my friends would question.

“Oh it was just a fling,” I responded.

Was I bored or just too young?

I thought it was just a phase of immaturity, that when I graduated from high school I would want a boyfriend —someone to study with in the library, someone to take care of me when I was sick, and someone to claim. When my girlfriends had serious boyfriends it didn’t bother me.

I wasn’t ready.

I wasn’t ready to give my time to a boy. I wasn’t ready to share my secrets. I wasn’t ready to give up my independence.

And I’m still not.

Even though I brought a boy to a New Year’s Eve party, I’m still not ready for that boyfriend title.

Then, what is he, you might be wondering. So was my cousin from Phoenix, who asked me last week,

“How is your boyfriend? I heard you brought him to the New Year’s party.”

“No, no, he is not my boyfriend. I don’t have boyfriends,” I said.

And I rambled on and on, denying the fact that I might actually like someone, because that makes me vulnerable.

I am back to the same place I was in the fifth grade, using boys for the game. I have been called a player, a tease and even heartless. I like the chase more than the catch.

What can I say? I am an athlete. I thrive on competition but always lose in overtime.

After so many pointless crushes, I asked myself the question again: Was I bored or just too young? And that is when I developed my philosophies on relationships.

When it is no longer spontaneous and fun, what are you waiting for, because it will never be.

You must discover yourself and know what you want before you discover someone else. Know what makes you laugh until you cry, what makes you own a room with confidence, what makes you go skinny dipping, what makes you run for miles, what makes you sit in silence.

These are your passions. Know them.

Then ask yourself whether you are ready. And if that person you claim you are in love with doesn’t make you ready, then you aren’t.

You are too young to fall in love, even if you don’t feel young anymore. Trust me, you will get bored.

I find myself as a young adult asking my little cousins about the boys in their lives.

I know, hypocritical right? The response is usually of disgust because boys have cooties, of course. But sometimes I get a big smile and red cheeks.

She has a crush. She fell for a boy. So did I, I think.