Not Fully
by Anonymous It’s a day in late December when I get a text ––no, she’s double, triple texting–– from a friend. Well, we’re friends through an org from years ago; so, why the text? Well, obviously there’s no discernible reason. This is exciting. Who cares about what the message is. We haven’t talked in months, but I’ve thought about her, and she sent me a text ––no, 3!–– which means she has thought about me. The realization comes like a loud sound or punch in the chest or the window flying open and wind streaming in ––cold and alive!–– swooping in and pinning my eyes open. In the bathroom I put my forehead against the mirror and whisper, I have a crush. ––on a girl!–– It’s a face of my identity I never knew existed yet here she is now, blinking in the bathroom mirror with newborn eyes. There was no accumulation of this! No raining hail of moments, filling the window screen with so
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