In our language (TreeBros)

Ch. 3.

A/N This ones really kinda long, my bad twigs.

            It's official, I'm loosing my mind. 

  I barely got any sleep last night, which isn't that unusual on it's own, problem is, the reasons I wasn't able to sleep. I couldn't stop thinking about Connor. I'm not saying that I thought about him all night, it wasn't that bad. I had all sorts of things going through my head, bouncing left and right in my brain like they were TRYING to drive me nuts. I mostly got lost thinking about every mistake that I've made, like literally ever. Mostly, that is.

   I may have thought other things for longer, but I thought of Connor more often. It's like I'd spend three hours contemplating my purpose in life, then out of no where It's just like my last group of brain cells goes 'remember that guy?' 'The one who you can't forget about?' 'Yeah, that one, lets think about what he could be doing right at this exact moment' and then they decide to just hit me with a ' remember how disgusted everyone must be with your existence?'

I'm constantly thinking, that's all I ever do, and my thoughts can go from 0 to 100, real quick. I'm that kid who just wonders, imagines, pretends, like a toddler who's old enough to think he's the center of earth and mess up everyone's day, but young enough that there's nothing to balance it out and no one can do anything about it, because it's a toddler. It's almost like I'm still not befitting the world, but I'm not a child so I don't even have an excuse.  I never do anything meaningful, I'm just a fleshy mess of bones and low mental stability.

Okay, that's kind of gross, but it gets the point acrossed. 

   Connor makes me want to DO something, go out of my way to try to wave at him, or start a conversation, or actually act on something. I can't do those things because I'm me and he's...well...Connor. It doesn't help that I know nothing about him, and it's not like we're exactly on the same metaphorical social sidewalk. I'm not on any ones social sidewalk, I'd just be on the road.

When I reached the school, I sighed and tried to brace myself for whatever was waiting for me behind those darned doors.

     Yep, that's me. Evan Hansen, the kid walking in the middle of the street while everyone's all safe on their stupid sidewalks and I'm here watching them on either side of me, thinking that they're judging everything about me and deciding they should sacrifice me to the sidewalk gods, when in reality no one even notices that I'm there at all and I'm just over-thinking everything, but what if I'm not over thinking and they hate me enough to melt me and stick me into wet cement , then I wouldn't even be on the road I'd be the friking sidewalk.

    Why on earth am I thinking about this at 7:30? in the morning?

As I said earlier, I'm loosing my mind.

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  I need to type out my letter, I ended up writing it in my notebook, and I'm not turning it in with my  own hand writing. What if he can't even read it ? What if he thinks the way I write is childish? There's too much to risk with a hand-written letter, so I'll just need to type it out, like I would have done last night if I hadn't been so distracted by Irrational and pointless things. Like the self-obsessed loser that I am.

I felt the urge to bite my nails and thought that It'd be about time for a topic change before I was bleeding everywhere again.

Okay Evan, think about something else, anything else.

Connor wouldn't be on the road or the sidewalk, he'd just exist in his own way. Sure, he's violent and  looks like he smokes drugs more than he goes to class, actually, that's probably true, but he can't be all that bad. I can't remember Connor doing anything un-provoked. Maybe, he's just an angry kid who needs a hug, or something?