Let Me Adore You (N.H.)

2

If I had to choose between studying English and Geography, I would always choose Geography without hesitation. I love the English language there was no doubt about that but I prefer writing over talking about some linguistic phenomenons like how English changed during the centuries and why. Not that I'm an excellent writer I just like to do it. Writing.

Be it to get rid of my thoughts and keeping order in my head or to put sentences together like a jigsaw. It is fascinating what someone can do with a text.

You can fill it with emotions until it is overflowing or you can keep such distance and objectivity as a writer that you as the reader have to ask yourself what possible thoughts behind those words could have been thought when they were written.

That is why I wouldn't have described my mood as 'excited' as I sat in class, trying to listen to the things we were talking about. And I wasn't the only one. A quick glance revealed someone in front of me watching highlights of a football game, others looking outside the windows or keeping themselves from drifting back to sleep, holding their heads as if they could fall from their necks and roll around the room any second.

I took this as a permission to get my phone out of my bag and splitting focus between the professor and the screen.

Nobody had texted me. Social Networks were uninteresting, I already saw everything. So I put it away seconds later, not listening at all anymore and looking outside. I knew I should concentrate. Really. It just wasn't possible.

So I watched what happened outside. Almost nothing going on, the campus empty with only few students outside. Here and there I saw a bird landing on the gray stones of the pathways, a squirrel making its way over the lawn looking for nuts on this morning. My eyes wandered to the science faculty, our biggest building. Besides that, it was rather plain and boring. Big. Gray. Very simple architecture. No old stones like those fancy colleges like Oxford, Cambridge or St. Andrews. It was gray. Gray like the sky on a rainy day. The geography department was under this roof as well.Only the old tree next to the entrance seemed not as harsh.

I couldn't explain why I liked the rooms there more than any other lecture halls, not even after a whole year. It just was. Since day one and not even one second I tried finding an explanation.

Instead, I always put it in relation to my love for this subject. No science connects so many different topics. Stones, rivers, mountains, deserts, vulcanoes, cities, economy, tourism and the most important and destructive force: Humanity. There are so many possibilities, it is difficult to get bored of geography, something I've experienced often in my life. Boredom. I have to see, smell, taste, learn something new almost every week. Until it doesn't catch me anymore.

With geography, I can do so much. It helps me sticking to one thing with consistency.

I tried so many hobbies, creative ways to spent my weekends. So many books I started writing but never finishing them.

There was another reason, a small part in me. Oh, but was it loud. Screaming in my mind the last semester, keeping me up at night. This reason was walking into the science faculty now, taking big steps. Looking down at his phone, his hands in the pockets of his beige slacks.

Though I sometimes have to wear glasses when trying to see things in a distance, I was sure that the man over there near the old tree was Mr. Horan. Every thread in my body protested against the fact that a person has deepened my love for geography. Overall a man.

Me, someone who jokes around by saying: "I hate men. They're horrible and women don't need them to be happy."

My mind on the other hand welcomed Mr. Horan's  influence with open arms like he was its long lost son. If a mind could have children.