I’m fading like a curtain in the sun.
For the first time in a while, I’m sick, and it sucks to be sick now of all times because things are only going to get crazier in work and school and band and all I can try to do is beat the sickness before the 13th, because god help me if I miss The xx and then the two next football games in the following weeks, especially my class’ trip to Arizona.
But the constant drip down my throat and the runny nose and the hacking coughs aren’t the only indicators of my sickness. Something far worse, a symptom of the most dreadful kind, is taking its toll upon my person at the same time, and unlike the physical stuff, I can’t stave it off with some ibuprofen and a quick nap.
I’m crushing again, and it’s bad bad bad bad bad BAD.
I just tried to take a deep breath in, but it only served to dry out the phlegm in my throat. Mmm. No wonder I don’t have a slew of suitors chasing after me.
Okay, that line of thinking is bullshit, and I know it. That doesn’t make it easier when this guy, this stupid stupid guy, who’s not stupid at all, is in my line of sight and I can’t even say “Hello” to him because I’m afraid of exercising my stupid stupid sick voice, which is also bullshit because when my friend Serge seatbelt-surprised me on the bus today I definitely had the vocal stamina to yell “WHAT THE SHIT?!” really loudly and then hold conversation with the rest of my friendos on the trip.
I’m making excuses. I’m doing that thing again where because I’m crushing on a guy, I’ll pull away from him as much as possible so I don’t let slip that I like him. Ohhhh it’s bad it’s bad it’s bad.
It doesn’t help that the last couple of guys I’ve crushed on have all looked above me (sometimes literally #shortpeopleproblems), don’t see me when I see them. I have no illusions about my appearance, so I don’t take that part of it so much to heart,
though that doesn’t make it any less frustrating sometimes. I’m not a terrible person. Except sometimes, which is still less than all of the time. And I’m pretty interesting, I guess? I cook a mean pan-fried noodle.
Except who seduces people with pan-friend noodles.
AHHHHH this is starting to read like a comedy script, except that it’s my life. Sweet jesus.
So yeah, while my friends have been making headway on the whole “Get some” part of college, I’ve been clutching my hands together and running away from everyone, sometimes literally. And even when I do get the chance to cut a little loose, I’ll wake up the next morning bleary-eyed on the apartment couch, wearing last night’s clothes, huddled under my high school band blanket. Because I’m one of those idiots who crushes on people who don’t talk to her, who makes up excuses why she shouldn’t pursue things, who clams up when she’s presented with the opportunity to do something, ANYTHING, who just cannot get. it. together. for. christ’s. sake.
To borrow the title from the Diane Keaton/Jack Nicholson movie about old people having sex, “Something’s gotta give.”
So here’s my deal. I don’t even know if he’s single, and I have no idea how to ask about it, just as I have no idea how to do anything, really, besides try not to say/do anything too mindcrushingly dumb, and then I have no idea how to make things go forward because it’s not like I see/talk to him on a regular basis and
yeah. My cheeks are starting to flush, and I don’t think it’s because of my fever.
Part of me doesn’t want to share this stuff but if I put it on the public record, there’s at least that much more of an impetus to Get Shit Done.
Although that’s currently all negated by the fact that, *cough cough*, I’m sick.
(Image: Accusations by Allison Rogers)