I’ve had crushes ever since I can remember—harmless ones on the playground, ones I stifled while brace-faced, others I coughed up while drunk and still heavily baby faced, one I confessed when it was completely obvious to everyone except him, and a few I’ve offered up as sobering monuments to my vulnerability.
I like the term “crush” because it’s sort of…
Keep reading with a 7-day free trial
Subscribe to Close Friends to keep reading this post and get 7 days of free access to the full post archives.