Stuck On You

April 28, 2014

Another bob of the head, I’m not surprised. It’s been like this. I go out at eight am and receive a nod. I come in at six or seven, sometimes later, and receive another tilt of the head. I’d return it, every time.

If I did come in later, somewhere around nine, sometimes he gave two nods. One to me and one to the guy with bleached hair. We would take the same elevator, get off on the same floor, and never breathe a word.

He still hadn’t dyed his hair. Now dark roots were growing back in. It still was clasping to the idea of once being purple, but he really was in need of another color.

Over time, I started to notice things like this about my new neighbor. About a week after I moved in he got an eyebrow piercing. I’m pretty sure he had a tattoo on the inside of his arm, but I could never make out what it was. He only seemed to own a limited amount of t shirts; all of them having band names across the chest.

Tonight happened to be a night I had stayed later at work. The elevator was empty upon arrival. I step inside, pressing the key for the third floor. The doors are shutting before I notice the guy jogging up to catch the lift.

I hit the button to keep the door open. The guy squeezes in before they are open all the way. He flashes me a tight grin. I return it, facing my eyes towards the ground.

I feel like apologizing for not seeing him before. I don’t, instead leaning into the corner. The guy matches my breathing. That’s we communicate. One of us sighs and the other breathes out slowly.

“I- uhm… thank you;” He mutters, adding a tilt of his head.

Nodding is all I feel capable of doing. I don’t face him, I don’t glance at him. I don’t want to make him think that I wanted to be friends or become comfortable with sharing an elevator with him.

“I’m- sorry- I’m Michael.” His accent is thick. I wonder if it affected the way he sounded when he laughed.

I do finally meet his eyes, maybe for the first time ever. I stick out my hand, something I realize was a bit old fashioned. “Anna, it’s nice to meet you.”

He took it, shaking with a gentle grip. “It’s nice to meet you too.”

His eyes were strange, but captivating. There are like a hazel, but also green. They reminded me of sunlight streaming in through the trees. It reminds me of some of the mornings I spent in Hyde Park, looking out across the water.

I’ve been staring, so I drop my gaze again, taking my hand back. I crawl back into my corner and act as if I had never spoken.

The elevator doors open, letting me escape from Michael. Michael walks leisurely behind me. I can sense every step he takes and each one raises my heartbeat. Please let me be, I don’t need a friend.

At my door I search around for my key. It’s at the bottom of my bag, seeming to have fallen out of the pocket I had put it in. After grabbing it, I look up to see Michael standing at my side.

It wasn’t as if he had just been there trying to get by. He was there for a reason. He had something to say.

“Why do you always run away?” His brow is furrowed.

Oh god, no, I’ve hurt him. I’ve barely said a sentence to him and I’ve hurt him. He thinks that I’m scared of him. I stutter, “I’m not running.”

He switches the weight on his feet. He leans against the wall a bit. “Why don’t you want to be near me?”

How do I explain social anxiety to a total stranger? Why should I explain it to him? “It’s not that, I’m just new here and I’m still getting used to things…”