The Crush

That crush. That stupid, silly, nonsense crush. That drunk-dialling, in-joke-sharing, uncontrollable crush. That relationship-ruining, late-night-chatting, stolen kisses crush. That crush. That crush. That crush. Is still here.

We play online Scrabble. It sounds so innocent, and it is. But, I linger on the words. If they were tiles in my fingers I would rub the wooden letters smooth. He plays a dirty word and I giggle, as if he whispered in my ear. As if we, just now, saw each other from across the bar and smiling looked away.

I savour this secret.

I want him more when he wins; when he talks smack and suggests another game. I like the titles he gives them: “Dangerous Liaisons” and the story lurking between the lines.

Sometimes, I cheat. Just to see if he notices. I lay out ridiculous words, barely-in-existence words, words that need other words that need still other words to define them. I wait to see if he calls me out. I crave the good-natured teasing. The flirtation. But he hasn’t yet. He imagines me more intelligent than I could ever give myself credit for.

I’m in love with the person he thinks I am. The person I used to be. The girl in his memory.

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5 thoughts on “The Crush”

  1. Intriguing.

    I, like Eric, know this feeling all too well.

    Perhaps it’s time to name said elephant… aka talk to Luke, because maybe he sees it too?

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