In the economy of my heart, he was the currency. I hoarded small moments: the way he said my name, the accidental brush of our sleeves in a crowded hallway, the afternoon he explained a math problem to me and I didn’t hear a single number because I was too busy counting the freckles on his hand. These were not grand gestures. They were breadcrumbs. And like a child lost in a familiar forest, I followed them willingly, never realizing I was only going in circles.
The Quiet Geography of a Crush
I always had a crush on him. To write that sentence now, in the past tense, feels like a small betrayal—not of him, but of the girl I used to be. Because a crush, when held for that long, stops being a simple feeling. It becomes a landscape. It becomes the furniture of your youth. i always had a crush on him ana rose