The Sickness

My fingers whirl over the key board with a fresh thought in my mind. I think this is a great idea. I think that I've said everything right. I read over the message once more when I'm done typing it to make sure that I'm okay with everything. I don't see anything that I could regret about this message here. No, it's fine. I'll send it just like this.

I click send and it's done. There's no going back now, the person has already received the message. It's now just sitting in their inbox waiting for them to read while I sit here and await a reply.

One minute passes… five minutes… ten minutes….

I feel the sting of anxiety begin to consume the pit of my stomach as nausea takes over my body. I suddenly regret sending that message too. How could I have been so stupid? I knew that I was going to send something wrong. I could have worded it differently. I could have brought something else up or I could have said it in a different way. Now you hate me. Now you aren't going to talk to me anymore. Now you aren't going to reply to me ever again. Why was I so stupid and why did I send that?

My mind races with the same thoughts over and over. The palms of my hands begin to get sweaty as my hair begins to stick to the back of my neck. The anxiety is torturous. I suddenly feel like I'm being weighed down by a ton of breaks.

I begin to refresh my page checking each time to see if you've responded yet. Each time I try and make up an excuse as to why I'm refreshing the page. My heart jumps each time I avert my gaze to my inbox. I feel pathetic doing this, but I can't stop myself. Just one message screwed everything up.

I suddenly feel embarrassed now as I feel my cheeks get hot. I suddenly feel like I'm annoying you and that I'm bothering you. I suddenly feel like you want nothing to do with me and that you've only spoken to me because you feel like I'll keep messaging you or something. I then begin to shake as I see that you're still online thinking that you're ignoring me.

I could have worded it differently…