Catching Feelings #2 – Hard Guy
It has been 3 hours, 44minutes and a little above seven seconds since I sent that response and she hasn’t replied.
I can almost feel you judging me because I said I was going to sleep but truth is I can’t.
So here I am on Netflix watching friends in a futile attempt to distract myself.
Is my heart even supposed to be beating this fast?
She must get a lot of these mails so it’s okay that she hasn’t gotten to mine or given me a response. Of which, if we are being honest, I already got one and I should have stopped at that.
I don’t know why I pushed this.
What was I really expecting?
I roll out of bed and go into my kitchen to fry yam. I will eat it with thick cold milo, let me see if the sleep won’t come this time. Nonsense.
I’m midway into frying my yam and dancing in my kitchen when I hear the ping of my phone in my room.
Before I think it through, I’m already in my room, frying spoon in my left hand, wiping my right hand on my shorts as I squint to see what came in.
Sure enough, it’s a reply from her.
“Lmao. It’s late though. Why aren’t you asleep? Thanks again.”
There are many things that cross through my mind as I read this response.
- Why is she awake?
- She replied again. Heaven must really be on my side.
- Should I tell her the real reason I’m awake?
- I decide against number 3. Too stupid.
- Why do I even care so much?
My mind is spinning because I want to keep the conversation alive but I am not exactly sure what to say next because my brain keeps freezing on me and my lungs are having a field day playing hide and seek in my chest and now… wait, what’s that smell?
I run out of my room just in time to save my pan from burning completely.
I look at the black mess that was supposed to be my fried yam and cry internally.
How did I forget that I left yam on fire?
Hissing, I get a cup and make cold milo because every strength to fry another batch has left me. This is madness and I have to put an end to it.
For all I know she probably has a boyfriend somewhere that’s making her smile stupid.
Somehow the thought of that stabs my chest.
Carrying my cup in my hand, I walk to my living room and open Netflix on my tv, I’m barely past the Friends theme song when I remember that her message is still open on my phone, unanswered.
I fly to my room and pick up my phone.
“Can’t sleep. It happens sometimes. You should sleep too.”
See, hard guy is a facade and mine was gently crumbling.