Anxious

Anxious

By: Sophie Anna

Her stomach churned in excitement and nervousness as she received the finalized news that she would be going out to dinner with her crush later on that evening. After months of waiting and wishing, the moment was finally here. She had somehow done it.

       Giddily, she hopped off of her bed where she had gotten the text that had changed her formerly depressed mood into one full of enthusiasm and joy. She walked over to her closet, and slid open one of the white doors to expose an explosion of color. Her eyes shot about the rainbow-colored clothes, until she randomly grabbed three dresses, pulling them out.

       Placing the dresses on her floral-covered bed, she examined them closely. One was a simple white wash, with an equally as minimal blush pink sash that tied into a bow in the middle. It was a pretty dress, made out of a lace material. It was strapless, but not too revealing. Was it too simple, though, was the true question. Would he think she was too boring? Would the color make her skin look even paler than it already was? Her stomach tightened with all the questions floating freely about in her mind.

       She focused her attention on another dress. This one was different than the first. The skirt was of a purple and yellow paisley design, the pattern almost resembling teardrops. The top of it was a melancholy green, though it suited the dress as a whole quite nicely. She didn’t like this dress as much as the first. In her eyes, it was ugly. There was no beauty about it. Nothing intriguing, and there was not a single reason in the world he would like it. She sighed, her heart pounding rapidly.

       She then looked over to the last dress. This one was nice. A soothing aqua color that flared out at the bottom and stopped right above the knees. It was a cotton blend of some sort, and felt soft to the touch. It wasn’t overly fancy, but didn’t look as though one would wear it to the beach. The capped sleeves gave a sense of modesty, allowing the shoulders to be covered. Would he think it was too modest, though? Would it appear to him that she couldn’t let loose and have fun? Were her arms even toned enough to wear the dress? Another knot was added to the collection in her worried stomach.

       She set all the dresses side by side, wondering which was the one that she would wear that night. The patterned one of violet and yellow was out of the question. To the eye, it was most definitely not appealing. Looking at the two dresses that were left, she began to fret. They were both fine for the occasion. One was white, the other of a sea foam blue. Another agonizing question lingered in her mind: What if dresses were too formal for the occasion?

       Worried, she went over to her phone charger, which was positioned neatly on her desk, and picked up the small electronic device that was charging within. She opened up her texts, and for the thirty-seventh time reread the one he had sent to her: pick ya up @ 7. wear sumthin nice. “Wear sumthin nice.” What did it mean? Was it a dress, a pair of slacks, or jeans without rips in them? It was such a vague statement, and gave room for much interpretation, something to which she wasn’t accustomed.

       She liked everything to be told to her with no wondering questions left to be determined. Being given explicit commands had always been easier for her, even as a young child. When all the other children begged their parents for five more minutes of playtime, she stood right up without question, and went away. Commands and orders built a structured lifestyle—a structured lifestyle that she liked.

       Returning to her bed, she remained confused as to whether or not a dress would be appropriate. She decided to try each dress on to see which would better suit the occasion. After shedding the sweats and T-shirt that had been occupying her body for the majority of the day, she slipped on the white dress, having to unzip the side to get into it. Once the dress was on, she hesitantly moved over to her full-length mirror.