Never trust a miracle tile or your crush
- Jul 3
- 3 min read
It was almost Christmas and I asked Stebuklo Plytelė, or the Miracle Tile, for a wish. I spun around three times and very specifically gave Plytelė a three-month window to fill my request. One month to go and I’m worried that since I asked in English, Stebuklo Plytelė didn't understand me. Are omnipotent miracle tiles polyglots?
He noticed me. I think. Actually, I’m not sure. The longer I'm alone the more confused I am about how things work. He looks to me in group conversations – taking my cues to laugh. When we talk, I never want the conversation to end. I think he feels the same way? It’s the little things, signals that, back when I was 30, I would have been confident were signs of affection. Now, older, I’m not so sure.
Didn't he get drunk at the Christmas party and assert that he would only go where I was going, shouting it at the snow storm as it whirled around us?
He’s attached. I’m not interested in people who are attached. The end of my marriage taught me that. That someone could have a whole separate life, without you, and then look you in the eye and lay down next to you… no. One of the key points that’s kept me sane about the end of my marriage was firmly believing that he didn't cheat. He wanted to, but he respected me enough to leave first.
I give him credit that’s always been more for me than for him.
I don’t want to be that person.
He’s attached and uses the pronoun “we.” Most men, I’ve found, always refer to themselves, even in a group, as “I.” “I went to the movies over the weekend,” (he went with his wife and three kids). “I went skiing,” (he went with his old college roommates).
At lunch yesterday he started a story saying, “We went to brunch yesterday.” We means he’s in love.
Yes, definitely probably in love.
They say men here cheat more. Is that true? He’s too young to cheat, surely.
He’s 13 years younger than me. Jesus. Is that a problem? If I was a man, no one would blink an eye. He’s younger than my brother, who I pushed in his stroller at the age of 12, I was afraid that people would think he was mine. My mother rolled her eyes.
Am I grooming him? It feels like grooming. How does this work? Am I supposed to show him how I can teach him things that another woman can’t? Fuck, I might be old enough to be her mother. If she only knew, my mother would roll her eyes again.
Ok. How do I go about it? What do men do? I need to know what men do. How do they transform unsuspecting young women into vessels for their desires? I can't believe I just said that. See what this is doing to me? I’m like fucking Hemingway. Ok, I am definitely not like Hemingway – I can't write that well nor do I have the alcohol tolerance. But thinking of someone as merely a prop… I could be on to something here.
God, this is getting dark. Ok, back to basics. Problem, I can't stop thinking about him. I hoped that after a few weeks it would start to dissipate. Like a crush. A crush only lasts a little while. The more you get to know them, the less you have a crush because you’ve actually learned who they are and realized they aren’t that great in the first place.
I recently read an article that said that flirting is good for our health. That it doesn't have to lead anywhere; it can be an effective tool for connecting with people. The underlying purpose of meaningless flirtation is that it shows you have value. Is he flirting with me?
I listened as my friend told me about her holiday office party tryst. Long after the rest of the revelers were gone, they danced until 3am, twisting and turning to the twinkle of Christmas lights cello-taped to the glass panels of the conference room. They felt the rhythm as they swayed, brushing their arms against each other, leaning in as music ebbed and flowed. Then, hastily, they tossed the remaining plastic champagne glasses in the bin and went home, separately. He has a wife and twin boys at home.
Would we do that? Spend all night talking at the bar, learning nothing and everything about each other. Probably not.
Best not to tell him.
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