Love, Poetry, & Coffee

~ 40 ~

If I imagine hard enough, perhaps Constance won't be following me with excitement in her eyes. Every time I take a step forward, there's always this beat of dread pumping in my chest. At least some of us doesn't have to feel the dread crawling up to their head. Glancing my eyes at my follower, Constance seems to be quite happy to go to a stranger's house. Well, we only just met for like 2 days, but I still consider myself a stranger to her. "Are you always like this?" The question left my mouth before I could even think of asking her.

"Like what?" Her excitement shining in her eyes really does a number on me. I desperately want to erase that excitement before it'll morph into disappointment once she saw how messy the place I'm sleeping in.

"You seem quite enthusiastic about going to my apartment," I've already made a mistake of accidentally blurting out my thoughts out loud, might as well finish the conversation. "Especially when we're still basically strangers."

"Strangers? You still think we're strangers?" She lets out a giggle and I swear that I would make that my ringtone for her phone number. It's the sweetest and innocent sound I've ever heard in my isolated years. Once the giggling stopped, she crosses both her arms over her chest. "I've always hated the term 'stranger'," A sigh escapes her lips and the excitement in her eyes slowly turn into something unrecognizable.

"Why is that?" Curiosity gets the best of me, especially if the interest has something to do with Constance.

"For starters, the word 'stranger' is born out of paranoia and fear." I can feel my head nodding at her, since I already know where this is going. "Only in an atomized society could a word for a person you just met be a 'stranger', their label in people's thoughts having its root in the word 'strange' with that emotional predisposition towards rejection." I wonder how the conversation between Constance and Kate go, with her alone sounds quite interesting how she could think of such things. "So I rather use the term 'newcomer' than the term 'stranger'."

"Would it be funny if you say 'a new challenger approacheth'?"

A hand flies straight to her lips to hide away the soft laugh that's escaping her throat. "That would definitely be funny, but people might think of me as a weird time traveler."

I shrug my shoulders, a toothy grin forms on my face. "At least you let people believe time travel is possible," saying that rewards me by hearing Constance laughter a bit more audible than before. If I have a fever, her laugh will be the best medicine.

She turns her head at me, her laugh completely dissipate all of a sudden. Instead of the cheery expression, as I stare back at her, she only has this blank, unreadable expression. She looks like those ghost who creepily stare at someone in a horror film. "But time travel is possible," I don't know what's more disturbing, her sudden monotone or her blank stare that's giving me shivers through my spine. We stare at each other for God knows how many seconds have passed. Neither of us said a word, and keeps on staring blankly at each other. Finally, she broke off the silence and laugh her lungs out. Her laughter can be really contagious, since it got me laughing too. "We both are so terrible at being serious," She states that so matter-of-factly that I feel attacked in a personal level.

"At least we can laugh at our failure on being serious together," I give her a half smile while I fight the half urge of me to frown. Just smile away the worry, although that worry is slowly closing on since I finally see the street of our apartment complex. "We walk fast, huh?" I let out a nervous laughter, but I'm hoping she didn't notice my laugh.

When she looks away in front of us, the excitement in her eyes finally came back, while I'm feeling the heavy dread. The urge to fall face flat on the sidewalk is strong, that makes me wonder if I act as if I'm going to faint so that we'll have a detour to the nearest hospital. That's too desperate, even for me. But I'm considering it, and I'm beginning to have the courage to do it. Shaking away that thought, I begin to gaslight myself that I can do this. It's funny how a person can gaslight the anxious feeling away. Although that sounds like an unhealthy way to get rid of anxiety, it's helpful, especially in my situation.