Untouchable

Did you forget?

"What's your greatest fear?" she asks.

"To be forgotten," I tell her. "But not just that. To be forgotten by a person I could never forget."

- Sue Zhao (via blossomfully)

You would've thought that since Oli and I ran away together, it brought us closer. And it did, but there was one little problem. I, unfortunately, contracted Oliver's cold.

The following weekend I began to cough and my nose started running. I had tried to drink water to make the symptoms go away, but it barely helped. I was inside the whole 2 days I had off. When it was Monday, he came to the lunch table my friends were sitting at. "Hey gang!" he said, smiling. And for me, personalized, he said, "Hi Charlie." It seemed like he had a thing for calling me by my name, even if I didn't do the same. I said hi back and continued to eat my lunch. What was bothering me, however, was the fact he didn't run to me and hug me at recess. What had happened, I thought. I put my elbow on the table and leaned my head on my palm. I watched him while he went on about how his class was and who was annoying him. My eyes began to wander on his face, closely examining his features. He had no acne, and his nose was red from the cold. My sight traveled down his nose and made its way to the groove of his lip. Indirectly, I'd never tell anyone I was staring at his lips, but here, it's different. His lips were always a shade of pink, whether it be rose or peach. There was never a time when they were a different color. It was about this time when I started to go beyond his lips and eyelashes, I began to look at his eyebrows. How they spiraled at first, but then became parallel to the others, how the uniformity mixed with his personality. I loved it when he was near me. I loved when I could clearly see his face and the color of his eyes. As long as I could see him, and he was in my peripheral vision, everything was fine. But then, something occurred to me. If I don't communicate better, I'll lose him. I'll lose everything I worked for. I would go back to being strangers, which was less than enough for me. If I were to lose him, what would I do? I couldn't just hesitate and pretend that I didn't have so much to say to him. Suddenly, he began to walk away. And for the first time, I found myself calling his name.

"Oli! Wait!" I yelled for him. He stopped in his tracks and turned back around to look at me. "..Sorry I can't hug you this week, I'm kinda..sick." I said to him. 

He didn't smile, he just said "It's fine," and he walked away. I was shocked. It was just 2 words, so why did it hurt when he said only that? After all, the reason I was even sick in the first place was because of him. I sat there, thinking why he said it like that. Could he have intended it to sound the way it did? Will he come back and apologize for his tone?

Nope. He didn't. And I went inside that day without a hug or a smile directed at me. Class went by incredibly quickly, the only reason being that I was absorbed in thoughts. It left me speechless, and not in a good way. I went to every rehearsal because he was going to be there, even if I wasn't called. I spent money and time on him, I cared about him, and he couldn't do so much as pat me on my shoulder or tell me to get better. He was the reason I wasn't feeling well, emotionally and physically. Emotionally, I felt like screaming and crying into my pillow like a teenage girl. I felt like hurling myself at a wall and crashing into every obstacle in my way. I felt like slamming my door and suffocating under my bedsheets. Physically, I wanted to throw up and be bedridden all day. I didn't care how horrible I'd feel after, as long as these stupid feelings would go away. Sleeping was my only getaway, the only thing that would restrain me from replaying his voice in my head, thinking and deciphering the tone he chose to use. Realistically, the only thing I really wanted to do was get better. To hug him more, touch him, and do whatever I could to just be near him. But that wasn't what I needed. I needed to stop thinking of him, always him, always others, and start thinking of myself. I needed to start caring for myself.

So that's what I did. For a few hours, I changed into my pajamas, turned on a movie, and drank a gallon of water. I took care of myself and didn't cry. After that, I decided on something. When I'm not sick anymore, I can't just keep going with whatever he wanted. I needed to take matters into my own hands. If he didn't hug me first, then I'd be the one to hug him, like a trade-off. I'd communicate more, and smile at him. I'd talk to him better. Quite literally, I wanted to full-on bear hug him, with K-Drama music playing in the background. Because if communication messed things up for me again, I don't know what I'd do.

Thursday at lunch, I went to put away my lunch bag, when I saw Oli on the steps tying his shoe. As if nothing happened he said, "Hi Charlie!" Where did this come from? 

"Hi," I patted his head, "Oli, I'll hug you tomorrow." I did it. I finally said it. 

"Huh? Why? What happened?" he asked me. Had he entirely forgotten the fact I was sick? Had he forgotten the words he said to me and the tone of them? Worst of all, had he just thought I was tired of him and didn't want to hug him? 

"I was sick for a little.." I answered him. He nodded and walked to his friends. "Did he really forget?" was what ravaged my mind. The possibility hurt my head to think about. Did he just disregard our exchanged words and deem them unimportant? Even though it seemed like he had dementia, I was glad that I could clarify why I wasn't hugging him. Either way, I couldn't ignore it, as we had rehearsal after school.

Oliver, whether he liked it or not, was a big part of my life. I just hoped that I was as big of a part of his as he was in mine. And if I was, then that'd be enough for me.

word count: 1147