Words by: Juliette Capomolla
Art by: Annabel Condon

It’s undeniably human to have crushes. I mean, what’s the point of going to your weekly uni tutorial if not for the guy in the green sweatshirt who sits in the back left corner? Crushes enliven an excitement, giddiness and youthful feeling in us all. A crush takes me back to the start of Year 7, when 13-year-old me thought all the boys would just die over my side pony and rolled up skirt (spoiler: they didn’t). Whilst I’d like to think I’m past that particular trend, the sentiment remains — there’s nothing quite like a crush. 

That person who you wear that top for

That person who you put on makeup for

That person who you walk with a bit more of a strut for

But the best part of a crush? The comfort of it being all yours. My crushes probably don’t even know my name (do they even know I exist?), let alone the fact that I’ve imagined our potential house with a white picket fence and -oodle puppy in the ‘burbs. And that’s kind of nice. Sure, I might spend the semester attempting to make eye contact with them to see if they noticed me, too; but after 12 weeks, we can safely part ways with no lingering obligations to each other. So to all of those crushes you’ve had on the bus, on the train, in the halls, at the supermarket; to all those crushes who will never know they played a secondary role in your life; to all those crushes you never spoke a word to and never will  — this one’s for you.

Dearest Mr Grey Suit, 

You probably won’t remember me, that girl sitting on the 8:02am train from Moorabbin last Tuesday. Did I catch your eye? Because you certainly caught mine. I recall you were wearing a light grey suit with an awfully shiny, light-blue skinny tie. What was it that made you frown at Armadale station or chuckle at your phone? You were most likely hauling yourself to your nine-to-five grind, like you probably do every morning at 8:02am. Do you enjoy it, or do you find it monotonous and boring? I wonder what train you catch home at the end of the day…

Unbeknownst to you on that 32-minute journey, I imagined our whole life together. With a few assumptions (like that you also want three kids and a destination wedding), we ended up happily ever after. Of course, you inevitably have a mid-life crisis after wondering why you ever chose the corporate life for yourself, and beg me to sell our house in the city to move to Ocean Grove. Alas, the country life is not for me — after all, I am a city girl. We most likely go our separate ways when our children are in their teens and you find a shack for yourself by the beach. Neither of us are awfully sad; we had a good life together while it lasted. In some ways, it brings me joy to know that you are finally fulfilled in life. You were never truly happy in the city. After all, we want different things now, and we certainly aren’t the same people who met on that 8:02am train in 2022. How could we expect each other to be? Mr Grey Suit, I would never ask you to give up your dreams for me, and I would expect from you, too… 

And then we parted ways at Flinders Street station. You, on the number 19 tram towards North Coburg, and me on my tram towards South Melbourne. I’ll be looking for you next Tuesday. Will you look for me?