Damned OCD

Damned OCD...

all I do is sit here and open and close my contacts, over and over again. I know she's not on, I know she's not going to be on when I open it. No amount of telling myself so will get me to stop. I'm lost in a monotonous cycle of opens and closes and disappointment when I see she's not on, despite the fact that I knew she wouldn't be.

I feel almost numb. With little bits of sadness and joy speckled throughout moments. Little bits of her flit through my mind at random times. She comes into my sight just long enough for a smile to register on my face, then she's gone. I wish I could call.

Someone come over to my house, tie me up, steal my phone, dial her number, tell her I want to talk to her, explain to her my little situation, then thrust the phone into my face, forcing me to talk; just as Michael did when we met her. I saw her, and told him I liked her. He stopped us, called her over, and simply said "she wanted to talk to you" and thrust her into my face so I was forced to talk to her, going against the fear in my chest making it hard to breathe.

I keep hoping that somehow she got my number and will just randomly call. The phone will ring, light up, and vibrate; scaring the shit out of me. I'll pick it up and it will read "Heather" and I will not be able to breathe. I'll let it ring till the last second and then answer. And then it will be fine. She'll tell me to call whenever and I will. That's all I really need, is for her okay to call. Then I can call once, then again, over and over till it's routine. Making it less painful every thing. But that's not going to happen if I don't do something first. So technically, it's my fault that I feel like this. I'm keeping myself waiting, keeping myself on my toes, in misery, in longing. Stupid me.

Suck it up and call. That's all I hear in my head. Yet I cant. I'm just unable. Plain and simple. I want her. I wish I had taken driver's ed. So when I'm sixteen I can drive, instead of having to wait till next spring. So I can go "kidnap" her, like I said in the stairs. Those stairs that I've spent the past week living in. I wont leave. I cant leave. Not until I've had contact, where I can make more memories to live in. Because if I leave, I may never get back.




Why is this so difficult?