Written Between Glances

She saw him for the first time without her glasses.

A silhouette. A sweater. A voice like still water.



Just a glance—fleeting, forgettable. A face in a sea of faces at the library.



Or at least, that's how she wished she could remember it.



But the truth was: she was whipped from the moment she first saw him.



This wasn't just a crush- it was limerence, longing, and a yearning that refused to fade.



As their conversations deepened, so did her confusion.

Was he interested... or just kind?

Was it love... or projection?



She was falling in love more with what he represented... and learning, painfully, that what she was searching for was never in them to begin with.



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