jocelyn epitome of incomprehensibility Dark eyes and hair, soft voice, an accent blending several U.S. regions that registered to me as European at first, fan of Wendell Berry (in my head, "Christian hippie with a nature name"). I don't usually have crushes on friends. She's probably straight, too. But back in the days of 2016-18, the thought of seeing and hearing her at the poetry series made it more interesting to attend. The attraction. The thrill. The_sorrows_of_young_e_o_i. But I didn't cry about her not returning my unspoken feelings. What I cried about was when she tried lending me a poetry book to read! See, I knew I wouldn't have the time or impetus to read it that month, which made me sad. 2016 or 17? Edward was there too, and they comforted me and made me laugh, and I made her laugh too by quoting a verse in Proverbs that said something like "He who purses his lips is not wise" while noting how it reminded me of Donald Trump. And she called her car-owning sister who drove me home, twenty minutes out of their way. I guess she thought my crying fit meant a severe emotional upset, rather than something I do from time to time. (It WAS true that I was upset over more than not having time to read poetry - I was going through one of my rough patches with an over-demanding boss and my own stubbornness.) In 2018, when I still had my crush, she told me about falling for her current partner, named David. The next winter, I joked to her that I wasn't stealing her boyfriend when I mentioned going out with a David. I didn't say, "We could be together and cut out the middlemen! Reduce the like terms! She proves by algebra!" My affections, dear reader, were otherwise engaged. But even before that, I didn't mind knowing we'd just be friends. The bitterness added a slight poignancy, but it didn't overpower the fact that I valued her friendship. The friendzone! In a dream, this was a literal place, a cube-shaped room lined with bookshelves. It was pleasant, it was not grief. But it would be grief if an all-consuming affection were rejected. I talk like a romance novel! I am a sad romantic, it's plain, and also an indirect one: David's leaving for England on Saturday and I haven't written about that. 220104 ... tender_square [i love the way you described your friendship and boy-relationships through algebraic terms, it was so clever and sweet. and i loved the description of your friendzone as being this cozy library you could feel at home in, e_o_i. keep bringing the romance-novel vibes, i'm here for it, as the hip kids say.] 220105 what's it to you? who go blather from