"Hey, Jamie, come look at this," I called to my girlfriend, who was busying herself in the kitchen. She leaned over from the plant she was fixing, and threw me a look. "What, Poppins? I'm kind of in the middle of something here."
"I'm sorry, I just wanted to show you this."
"What's that?" she replied, washing her hands and walking over to me, where I was assembling a new playlist. "I call it my 'sunshine on a cool day' playlist. I think I'm finally done with it."
"Poppins, you do know the risks of listening to music, right? I don't want to be THAT person, but I just don't want you disappearing too often. I do need you here, you know."
"I know, I know, but do you want to listen to it, anyway?"
I knew the risks. But what was living without a little danger? Besides, I hadn't blipped in a while, it had been about 2 weeks since my last 3-hour disappearance.
And, yes, I did feel really bad for having to leave Jamie whenever my weird condition took over, but it wasn't like I had control over it. Prior to my first of many sporadic disappearances, music had been one of the things I loved most. Even when I was with Edmund, hard as it was to admit.
I didn't want her to always be worried for me, that just made me feel like a burden, but I missed listening to music. A lot. And as selfish as it made me, I was willing to risk a blip to listen.
"I do, but I don't want to risk it, Dani."
"Jamie," I scoffed, "I think you'd know me better than to suggest not risking anything. Especially for my sake."
"Fine, but I just don't want you to be gone too long in the event that you do vanish," she stated bluntly, then went back to repotting the plants we had in our apartment.
"I'll do my best, ma'am."
Contrary to what you may be thinking, I could still listen to music. I used to experience the feeling of anemoia all the time, but ever since I started being pulled into different times and different places, I couldn't seem to remember which songs used to make me feel that way. It was like somebody had taken out that detector in my head and used it to make a device that yanked the carpet out from under my feet.
I started my playlist and made it to about the tenth song before it happened. There are warning signs, you see. Very slight, but they were there.
My heartbeat would quicken, and butterflies would erupt in my stomach, as if I was infatuated with something or someone. My hands would get tingly, and that was the stage when I'd warn Jamie I was about to blip.
Now, this song, in particular, had always been a favorite of mine. It was one of those newer songs that had the same charm as the music I used to like before.
"Jamie, I think I messed up," I mumbled weakly, the light-headedness getting to me, "I think I probably should've listened to you."
She groaned inwardly and turned toward me, sighing, "Well, nothing I can do now but wait."
"I'll see you later, then."
That was the last thing I remembered before blacking out. There was always a very brief blackout period in between the reality I lived in, and the hazy memory, imagination reality I entered.
This was the part I hated most, knowing my eyes were shut and I was completely still, but not being able to do anything about it. All I could do was wait, just like Jamie always did, both of us being forced apart against our will, with waiting as our only option.
Waiting indefinitely for me to return, if I ever did, that is, and waiting to be let in to reality, whether the one with blurred lines, or the one with clearer lines, I could never really tell.
Waiting... waiting... waiting....
