the internal storm

longing

I sometimes dream of feeling you, kissing you, our bodies touching and sharing that connection. That physical, mental and emotional connection that is unbreakable with a person. Getting all sensual and shit. Us having meaningful conversations, laughing at those stupid little jokes only we would understand.

I wonder what would happen if I talked to you... but I think I would vomit if I tried. Almost every day I see you and wonder if the feelings are mutual. I know they aren't. They can't be. I feel it in my gut, and know I'm lying to myself. How could you feel the same as I do? You don't even know me.

I feel like a stalker. I think I know too much about someone I don't know. Going through photos of you online, eavesdropping on your conversations so I can learn about what your interests are, constantly trying to find out who you are. What makes you tick? Why do you think this? Why do you feel that? Maybe I psychoanalyze you too much, or maybe I am driving myself insane. It's difficult for me to stop.

My mind is constantly going, never coming to a halt. It's always thinking and feelings things for you. If the five second eye contact we had in the hallway meant anything to you. If you holding the door open for me was just a common courtesy or something else. If you still remember the tiny interactions we have made in the past. The songs that remind me of you, which both make me gleeful and depressed.

I often daydream about certain things we would do together. Discussing music to death. Having deep conversations on the roof under the silver stars. Holding each other, and enjoying a comfortable silence. You and me driving, going on a road trip and discovering new places. Helping you, comforting you when things go wrong. Being there for you when everything seems to have gone dark. Making you laugh, your eyes to light up the dark.

But it is not real. You're not real, you don't exist. This is all in my head, I am just a hopeless idealist putting a stranger on a pedestal.

People say I just need to talk to you. That the fantasy will be crushed as soon as we converse. I tell myself that too, but never go through with the actual doing. And that makes me absolutely despise myself.

I want to tell you how I feel, get to know the real you. Break down the walls in my way, but for now, I can't. My heart beat races when I'm around you, sweat dampens my underarms and a giant knot ties my throat closed when I try and talk to you. I feel like I'm dying, like I'm going to choke and throw up at the same time when I'm around you. My mind goes at a million miles per minute, you distract me in class and I always end up making myself look like a fool in front of you.

On the outside, I look emotionless, like I don't care. I show the opposite of what I'm really feeling. I don't treat you as nicely, like that one time I really did try and talk to you and came off as rude. Or yesterday when we saw each other in the hall but then I darted my head away from you after I couldn't hold eye contact.

I really wish it didn't have to be like this. I wish I was like others, who can just go up and ask. Who actually talk to the person they like and are able to figure out pretty soon if the feeling is mutual. I wish I could read your mind, so I could know the full, unfiltered truth of your thoughts. You probably don't even think about me.

I hate myself for having whatever this is. A crush? I barely know you. An infatuation? It's been too long. Lust? Maybe sometimes. Love? I fucking hope not. I have no idea of who you truly are.

For now, this dialogue may pertain to one person, but it can truly apply to anyone I have been infatuated with. I wish that you didn't exist, so then I wouldn't hate myself for liking you. But that's not fair to you.

2/23/19