Dear Diary,
Ever since Luca began work with me, I always noticed that there was something between us. It existed in the lingering eye contact, the shy laughter and the way he leans in whenever we’re deep in conversation. It’s an unspoken chemistry that the both of us feel, but choose not to acknowledge. The professionalism we maintain, or at least try to, makes our collaborative work lives sort of like a circuit. As long as we have enough resistance, and the insulation of boundaries exist, the batteries and wires work perfectly to light up the bulb.This being said, resistance becomes weaker and weaker with each week, and I’m certain one day we’ll short circuit. It’s easy to tell myself to ignore him, trust me, I’ve tried. A few days ago, I managed to convince myself that if I really commit to it, I could get through this job without directly communicating with him. When Luca approached me for our routine lunch, I picked up my phone, pretending to be on a painfully stressful call; gesturing my fabricated exasperation and impatience with the invisible stranger on the other end of the line. When he asked for my input at the office meeting, I simply evaded the request, redirecting the question at another coworker. After eight hours of completely airing the poor man out, I decided that my endeavour of inattention was incredibly unsustainable, and possibly the worst thing I could do for my career. So now I’m here, back to square one and possibly much deeper in than I thought I would be.I can feel him trying to make things real between the two of us, but I know for a fact that if we get found out it will cost us both our jobs. If this whole thing with Luca were the first time I’ve been roped into something like this, I might be more blissfully ignorant of it all. This time, I don’t have wealthy parents who can pay to keep my name untainted.
Anika.
Note: Dear Diary is a fictional feature article and is not of a real life character. The author, Senushi Liyanarachchi, is a fictional content writer based in Australia.
