Star Husband's Secret Crush On Me For Ten Years

Okay, okay, settle in, grab your latte. You are not going to believe this. Remember Brad Stellar, the guy who played Captain Cosmos in, like, every sci-fi movie ever? Yeah, that Brad Stellar.

Turns out? He had a massive crush on me. For ten years! I know, right? Ten. Whole. Years. I'm still trying to wrap my head around it.

Let’s back up a bit, shall we? Because this story is, shall we say, *out there*.

How It All Started (Spoiler Alert: It Was Awkward)

It all started at a Comic-Con. The usual chaos, cosplayers galore, the smell of slightly stale hot dogs… you know the drill. I was there promoting my little indie comic, "Space Janitor: Cleaning Up the Galaxy, One Mess at a Time." (Don't judge, okay? It's got a small but dedicated following.)

Anyway, Brad Stellar was doing a signing, the line was insane, obviously. And somehow, SOMEHOW, he ended up wandering over to my tiny booth. I'm talking, my booth was so small, it practically qualified as a hobbit hole.

I remember thinking, "Okay, universe, what are you trying to pull? He's way too tall to even fit in this space." But there he was. Giving my comic the once-over.

He actually *bought* a copy! And then he said – get this – he said, "I admire your dedication to the unsung heroes of space travel." And winked. WINKED! I almost choked on my own spit. I mean, Brad Stellar just winked at me. Did I mention I was wearing my lucky (but slightly stained) "Space Janitor" t-shirt? Yeah, glamorous.

I mumbled something intelligent like, "Uh… thanks," and then proceeded to knock over a stack of comics. Graceful, I am not.

The First Few Clues (Which I Totally Missed)

Okay, so after that initial meeting, things were… weird. I started noticing little things. Flowers showing up at my apartment with no card. My social media getting a *lot* more attention from verified accounts (mostly sci-fi related, natch). And then there was the incident at the grocery store. I swear, I saw him hiding behind the pickle display. PICKLES!

Of course, being the oblivious person that I am, I chalked it all up to coincidence. Flowers? A secret admirer, maybe? Social media? Must be bots. Hiding behind pickles? He probably just really likes pickles! I mean, who doesn't like pickles?

My friends, of course, were screaming, "It's him! It's gotta be him!" But I dismissed it. Why would Brad Stellar, *the* Brad Stellar, be interested in little old me?

The Breadcrumbs Get…Crunchier

Fast forward a few years. My comic's doing okay, I'm still struggling to make rent, and Brad Stellar is starring in the biggest sci-fi franchise since Star Wars. You know, just the usual.

Then I got invited to a *really* fancy sci-fi convention in Monaco. I was like, "Wait, what? How did I get on this list?" Turns out, Brad Stellar had personally requested that I be invited. He'd even arranged for my travel and accommodation. On the condition he remained anonymous, of course. Smooth, Brad, very smooth.

I still didn't clue in. I just thought someone had accidentally added me to the guest list and didn't want to admit their mistake. I’m serious! My brain works in mysterious (and often idiotic) ways.

At the convention, I kept running into him. "Oh, hi, Brad! Fancy seeing you here… at a sci-fi convention that you're headlining." The awkwardness was palpable. He’d always find a reason to chat. Ask about my comic. Comment on my (questionable) fashion choices. It was...endearing, in a totally bewildering way.

And then, the breadcrumbs became a full-on loaf of bread, smeared with neon-colored butter and flashing neon signs that said "HE LIKES YOU, YOU IDIOT!"

The Big Reveal (Finally!)

The truth came out at a charity gala. Super swanky, black tie event, the works. I was feeling incredibly out of place in my borrowed (and slightly too tight) dress. I was trying to discreetly pick at a stain from the shrimp cocktail when… you guessed it… Brad Stellar approached.

He looked amazing, naturally. Like, ridiculously handsome in a tux. He took my hand (cue internal screaming) and said, "Can we talk?"

We went out onto a balcony overlooking the ocean. Dramatic, right? He took a deep breath and then… he just blurted it out. "I've been crushing on you for ten years."

My response? A stunned silence followed by a completely unoriginal, "What?!" Followed by me tripping over my own feet. I swear, I have the grace of a newborn giraffe.

He proceeded to explain everything. The flowers, the social media, the pickle incident (turns out he *hates* pickles, he was just trying to be subtle!). He even admitted to anonymously donating to my Kickstarter campaign. Seriously, the man is a saint (and a slightly stalker-ish saint, but still).

Why Me? (The Million-Dollar Question)

Okay, so after the initial shock wore off, the inevitable question arose: Why me? He’s a *star*. He could have anyone! Supermodels! Oscar winners! People who actually know how to walk in heels!

He said he admired my passion, my dedication to my work, and my…quirkiness. Apparently, my awkwardness is "charming." (I still think he's crazy, but I'm not complaining.) He also said he loved my comic. Which, let's be honest, is the ultimate compliment for a creator. Right? Right!

He said he was drawn to my genuine nature, to the fact that I wasn’t impressed by his fame. That I treated him like a regular person. Which, honestly, I did, because I genuinely thought he was just a really tall, really famous pickle enthusiast.

What Now? (The Plot Thickens)

So, here we are. Brad Stellar, Captain Cosmos himself, confessed his decade-long crush on me. The girl who writes comics about space janitors. It’s a rom-com waiting to happen, right?

We're… dating. Well, trying to date. It's a little surreal. One minute I'm arguing with him about which episode of Star Trek is the best (it's "The Trouble with Tribbles," obviously), and the next minute, I'm dodging paparazzi outside a fancy restaurant. It’s been wild.

It’s early days, obviously. I'm still trying to process everything. But he’s sweet, he’s funny, and he actually seems to *get* me. And, let's be honest, it's kind of fun having a movie star as a boyfriend. Free movie premieres! Access to Comic-Con VIP areas! The possibilities are endless!

Of course, there are challenges. The media frenzy is insane. My inbox is overflowing with hate mail from jealous fans (who knew space janitors could inspire so much passion?). And then there's the whole "living in a different world" thing. I'm used to ramen noodles and late-night writing sessions. He's used to private jets and red carpets. It's going to take some adjusting, to say the least.

The Moral of the Story? (If There Is One)

So, what's the moral of this crazy story? I don't know, maybe it's that you should always be yourself. Even if "yourself" is a slightly awkward, slightly obsessed comic book writer who wears stained t-shirts. Maybe it’s that even the most famous people have their insecurities. Or maybe it’s just that life is weird and unpredictable, and sometimes, just sometimes, a star falls for a space janitor.

Or maybe it's just that I have a really good story to tell over coffee. Which reminds me, need another latte? This could take a while...

Update: He just texted. Apparently, he's bringing over gourmet pickles tonight. He’s learning, people. He's learning.

Wish me luck! I'm going to need it.