A Crush

I've got another confession to make.

When I was a young teenager I found myself head-over-heels in love infatuation with a certain boy. To my knowledge, I never mentioned the crush to anyone. I certainly never told him that I dreamed about our future wedding. I most definitely never told his parents that I wanted to bear their grandchildren and I made a point of not mentioning it to his grandmother.

But there was just something about his eyes, his quiet demeanor, and his brooding personality that I just couldn't shake. I didn't tell anyone because I knew that nothing would ever happen between us. I might have convinced him that we'd make cute children. I might have won him over with my personality and affection for things like tea and crumpets. Alright, truthfully, I don't think I've ever had a crumpet but I'm convinced that I'd like it. Crunchy on the outside. Spongy on the inside. What's not to like? He may have even fallen in love with my tiny hometown that smells--on any given summer day--like barnyard animals although, I suspect, it would have been a love bathed in charity and philanthropy. But nothing could ever come of my delusions of grandeur. Nothing could ever come of the tiaras I imagined.

Because he was a Windsor.

And I come from the above-mentioned cow town.

But in my dreams, it was great while it lasted.

I didn't wait for you, Wills. I guess I couldn't really have expected you to wait for me.

So have a nice wife, I mean life. Go be king or something. It never would have worked out between us anyway.