Your car pulls out into traffic three cars ahead of me. I immediately recognize it, with its roof rack and green color and my pulse quickens just a little bit. I watch the break lights shine through the other cars in front of me, stopping for a stop light, then disappearing as you release the break. I think I catch a glimpse of your red hat in the driver’s seat. I know you haven’t seen me three cars behind you and I feel like someone with a secret, giddy with the knowledge I can see you but you do not yet know that I’m there.


You make a left into the restaurant ahead of me and I am struck by how handsome you are, smiling at me in your vest, one hand in your pocket. I feel a little foolish at my feelings, trying to put my finger on exactly what they are, reaching back into my memory from years ago. Crush. I have a crush on you. I saw you in traffic unexpectedly, even though I knew I was going to meet you and it made me giddy. I would say it’s ridiculous (and it is a little), but I am overwhelmed at the good fortune I have to have a crush on my own husband.


And to realize it in the middle of the week, heading towards a quick lunch at a barbeque restaurant.


13 years I’ve been crushing on the same guy.


Happy Wednesday, yall.

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