Chapter 2 - Obsession.

You're in my mind.
Again.
Running through my thoughts,
lost. And there's no way out.

I try to avoid you,
get away,
but every time I refuse you
you come back for more.

I put some music on
and let the melody flow through me.
I immerse myself within it,
distracted by the beat.
Until you push it away
and fill my mind again,
with the same thoughts and the same fantasies.

Even though you're never there,
I can't escape you.

 

 

  He was late. Again. In five minutes the bell would ring and I would have to go to my next lesson. Without him. These last few minutes were my only hope if being able to speak to him in the next couple of hours.

  I looked at the clock. Its hands moved surprisingly quickly, like they were against me, like they were eager to cut off my time with him. It made me wonder if my plan to be with him would get in the way of anyone else’s. He was well respected within the year. Most knew him, and those who didn’t wanted to. He was just one of those people who was universally liked. Yet even with all the possibilities, he kept his distance from the more popular ones, staying instead with the genuine people, the ones you could hold a decent conversation with. I liked that. But did anyone else like him as much as I did? I’d had my suspicions, but guessed I was wrong. He’d never been in any meaningful relationships to my knowledge; whether this was his choice or not I didn’t know. He seemed quite happy as he was, singular and standing out.

  There was one minute to go on the clock. I heard the door open and averted my gaze. It was him. Him, in all his wonder and mystery.

  “Sorry I’m late.”

  He spoke with such calmness, like we were in a carefree zone with him sitting high above us, watching in and choosing what we do next. I was sure that how he spoke was not his choice, but rather because of how we viewed him. Instead of sitting down like the rest of us he leaned slightly against the lockers, his posture reflecting his unknown mental control over me. I was in awe of him. I wanted to be like him, and I also wanted him. He was to me that uppermost level everyone strives to attain. He was my own little nirvana that I had yet to accomplish.

  I’d spent the remaining minute looking at him, so when the bell went I cursed to myself. He was the first out of the door. My chance was gone. I wanted to run after him, catch him in the corridor and talk to him, forgetting everything else. But I couldn’t. I had to wait until break, maybe even lunch before I could talk to him again. And so I walked out of the door behind everyone else, and planned what would happen for the rest of the day.

 

  When I got back to the common room for break, I couldn’t see him. I looked around for his auburn-brown hair, his deep blue eyes. I still couldn’t see him. I sank into a chair, disappointed in myself for getting sidetracked earlier.

  “What’s up?”

  My friends didn’t know about my obsession for him. No one did, actually. No one except my diary and my poetry book. I hadn’t even told my best friend; I feared she would laugh at me, or not take it seriously. This wasn’t just some crush like all the others; I’d liked him for nearly two years. Maybe it had become slight obsession, but it was still different. I’d never liked anyone for quite so long as I had him. My mind was occupied by him and him only. I still wondered why I’d wasted so long, not acting on my feelings, instead letting them drift aimlessly around myself, floating so peacefully not even he could see them, and I could certainly not awaken them. Of course, I had the potential power, just no will or strength. My lack of confidence had a habit of getting in the way of whatever I wanted. I refused to let it though, not this time. I would reawaken these floating feelings, and pinpoint them towards him.

  I looked around the room again. He still wasn’t here. I’d spent five whole minutes thinking, wrapped up in my own world where my mind could wander to its heart’s content, and he still hadn’t shown up. I sighed, leaned back against the hard exterior of the chair I was placed on, and replied to my unknowing friend.

  “Nothing really...bored I guess.”

  Vague. I was always vague when he was concerned. I felt a slight tinge of guilt that I wouldn’t open up about him, but I assumed it would be a bad idea. Some things were meant to stay locked away in one’s mind.

  “How’s the poetry going?”

  “Still.” I was in no mood to talk.

  “Are they actually about someone, or do you just make them up?”

  “Of course they’re about someone, I wouldn’t...” Darn. I stopped, waiting for my friend to start the questions. Great.

  “Ooh, who are they about then?”

  What do I say? Him? Not him? None of your business? Only joking?!

  “ You know, I’ve got to go...hand something in. Be right back!”

  And with that I left. She was now confused. That was my fault. I never thought before opening my mouth. But still, she shouldn’t ask. For once, personal stayed personal with me. And that wasn’t going to  change anytime soon.

 

  I walked down the corridor, and down the stairs. There was one place I could go that no one else ever went, when I just needed solitude. Under the stairs. It was fairly hidden, and I was pretty much one of the only students with a tendency to sit by myself round college. It was relaxing, in an odd sort of way. Yet I felt almost embarrassed when other people walked past, like it was some kind of shame to be sitting alone when everyone else was with their friends.

  As I walked closer, I noticed a bag where I would usually be sitting. That was odd. All of my friends were in the common room. I carried on further, until I could make out whose bag it was. His! It was his bag! I couldn’t be certain, but it sure looked like it. I peered round the corner, and saw his beautiful face, staring intently at a page scrawled over with various illegible words. His fringe fell slightly over one eye, and he was sat cross-legged, with one hand resting against his forehead. He appeared to be murmuring quietly whatever was written on the page in front of him. I was shocked that someone was in my spot, yet alone him of all people.

  “Oh!”

  His head swivelled round slowly as he heard me, and he looked me in the eye. I felt an increasing sense of invasion of his privacy, and so clutching my books I turned round and walked straight out, red-faced, looking at the floor. Once outside, I sat down on the nearest bench. Why did I just do that? I hoped he’d come out to see who I was. Or to talk to me. Maybe even invite me back to his previous location. But he wouldn’t, and I knew it all too well. I’d done exactly the same thing as in the morning. I’d had an opportunity, and I’d blown it. And not only that. He probably thought me rather odd, not even saying anything. And hurrying away so quickly. Why did I do that?!

 

  I didn’t see him again at lunch. I was still embarrassed at the whole fiasco that had taken place earlier. If I saw him I’d probably only run away and hide again. I’d managed to avoid my friends since the questions before, and had returned back to my spot under the stairs. He wasn’t there, despite all hope I’d had. Not even a trace of him was left. I was hoping he’d carelessly dropped a piece of his paper as he exited for the next lesson, so I could have read it to see what he was so focused on. He was obviously more organised than that. Maybe he was writing a story, or lyrics. Or poetry! I could relate to him if he did. That would be something to talk about with him. A conversation starter. Get him interested, and then continue from there.

   I was immersing myself in silly little fantasies again, ones that would never happen at this rate. I couldn’t even say hi to him. Not one word. I had always been shy, but this was ridiculous even for me. I still had the rest of the day to talk to him though, and hopefully I would, instead of leaving such opportunities behind. He wasn’t in any of my next lessons, but there was still the end of the day. If I was lucky then I could catch him. But it was unlikely. He seemed to disappear so quickly once the final bell rang. I didn’t think I’d ever seen him walk out of school, but he must have done, as he was never in the common room.

  I stopped. I suddenly felt aware. Aware of how obsessive I was becoming. I was planning out when I would next see him. I’d never been like that before.

 

  In all the days I’d had at my college, this had to be one of the least successful. Yes, I’d never spoken to him on any of the previous days. But today, I’d had opportunities. And I’d failed them all. I wanted to kick myself. It was the end of the day, and I hadn’t even spoken to him once. He probably thought me a fool; the shy one who runs away and doesn’t speak. He’d always seemed to get on better with the confident people. Which almost definitely wasn’t me.

  I walked out of the college door, towards the gate. As I prepared myself for the walk down to the bus, I noticed auburn hair getting closer. It was him, standing by the gate. By himself. There were people around him, but none with him. I couldn’t stop, as the crowds were large and I didn’t want to block up the exit. I veered slightly towards him though, hoping he’d catch my eye.

  He did. And as he did, I did something myself that I thought I’d never do. I smiled.

The End

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