Doorman

Planning

Hours usually tick by with the same frequency of the second hand, but today the hour decided to change with the turn of the month. Time has never felt this long to me before. I've never felt so excited before.

I pace around my dorm waiting. And waiting. And waiting. Only about an hour has gone by since I've spoken to Michael but it feels like days.

I look in the mirror and-

"Oh my fuck," I whisper to the air. I haven't changed my clothes since I first spoke to Michael.

I probably look like a...... someone who doesn't change their clothes.

I realize I need to change, but I don't know how I should dress.

If I go too formal he's going to think I'm boring but if I go in sweatpants and a t-shirt I'll look crazy. But... what if I look like I don't care if I wear a t-shirt and-

Great! I'm overthinking again. I always have that problem. Just pick something off of the floor and wear that.
See? Don't you look and feel so much better. If you comb your hair you'll look quite alright.

I look toward the clock again.

Holy shit. It's 2:00. How does getting dressed take me four hours?

It doesn't take me four hours. At least, getting dressed doesn't. That most likely accounts for about 5 to 10 minutes of my time. The rest is spent staring blankly at the wall as I figure out what to wear while simultaneously judging my figure, which I seem to hate even though my friends and family tell me it actually is flattering.

Anyways, I still have two more hours to burn. Why not grab some coffee? I'm so slow it would take me that long.

I start to make my way to the on-campus cafe. It's not great, but it's somewhat affordable. I get in line and I see... him.

Oh god he's perfect.

He's sitting at a table with his laptop opened to what looks like Visual Studios.

He's so smart. I don't get how people can code.

"Excuse me, [Ma'am/Sir]. Are you going to order?" The lady behind the counter asks.
I was staring again.

"Yeah, sorry, I'll have....... I'll have the uh..." my eyes sweep across the menu, "[favorite drink here]."

The lady gives me my order and now I'm lost.

I want to see him. I want to talk to him.

I look around the room, just wanting to see him. My eyes fix onto his position.

His dark fluffy hair, his deep brown eyes. Oh god I could stare at him for hours.

But now is not the time for that. I can talk to him later. I go back to my room. I am blanking out and it feels as if my room is only a step away.

3:00. One more hour.

Why is my heart beating like crazy? I don't even know him. I've spoken to him maybe three times. Nobody thinks about someone they don't know this much. What if he's a bad person?

I'm willing to take chances.

I sip on my drink, looking at the clock. Why does love have to be so agonizingly painful? To the point where your stomach aches as you yearn for ones touch? I'm sick, the walls seem to move while I think about him.

Thirty minutes, maybe I should start walking over there.

Besides, I need to calm down.