P art of having a crush is not only becoming highly aware of details about the person you have a crush on, but also having a heightened imagination to run away with those details. I remember one time when I didn't even have a crush on Paul (yet), he was lying on his stomach on a straw mat on the sand, taking a nap. His hand was out above his head, and he was playing lazily with the sand. It was a very slow and sensuous gesture, and as I watched him let the sand run between his fingers, I had this instantaneous domestic yuppie vision: I'd wake up one morning and turn over to see Paul next to me. I'd go downstairs to get bread at the bakery and we'd read the paper together over breakfast. I knew that Paul didn't really like me in that way, and besides he was a throughgoing member of the proletariat class. He would have rather been shot dead than pledge allegiance to the flag of bourgeois comforts, but for a brief moment it was vivid in my imagination, and I wanted it so badly. That's what crushes can do for you.

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