Crush or obsession?
For years, I fancied a man on my morning train. He was everything I wanted in a man: good looking, tall and the broadest shoulders you have ever seen. He was, to my mind, a god.

That would have been that. I've had these sort of things before and I knew I could cope by avoiding him. You see, I knew he was married with young kids (I saw him out shopping once or twice) and I had a long-term boyfriend and, besides, what would this god want with a 40-year old bald bearded bloke? So that's what I did. I avoided him rather than sit there drooling every morning.

And then he sat next to me one morning and our legs sort of rubbed together and I got way too aroused for a trip on the train. Nothing happened then (curse the bastard who sat opposite who wouldn't get off with everyone else) nor any of the other times he managed to sit next to me or near me. Then we started smiling at each other. No-one does that on a London commuter train.

We never spoke nor made any other contact and then, at Christmas, he stopped getting on my train. I don't know where he went or why or anything.

I've seen him since, just last week, getting on the train home. Just when I'd gotten over it and stopped looking for him at Grove Park.

Hey, sorry. I had to get all that off my chest. It's not funny and it's not even all that interesting. However, it was a completely inappropriate crush though that got way out of hand and yet never went far enough.
(BearWithLittleBrain, Thu 28 Sep 2006, 14:20, Reply)