Creep

For every step I drew closer, my heartbeat grew quicker with the onset of adrenaline. This was a race I knew well; a daily race every day I had while attending college this semester. Then as I reached the center of the college circle, my heart flatlined because I had reached the finish line. As if he could sense my presence, he turned and jerked his head in a familiar greeting. I couldn’t help but smile as I drew closer towards him.

“What’s up?” He asked, this time only pausing briefly to look up from his work. He was drawing Thor today on a sheet of white printer paper. I was usually only partially impressed at his skills at drawing comic book figures, but I always liked seeing him create art. There was something so intimate about an artist who was passionate about their craft. He was always engrossed in his work, no matter how small or miniscule.

“Nothing much,” I said, since he looked again at me for taking so long to respond. I pretended to be pawing through my purse as an excuse for my momentarily interlude. He had his headphones in, something I noticed he did whenever he was upset. It was as if he was trying to drown out all thoughts and emotions with grunge and alternative rock music. “How’s life?”

“Shitty.” I knew why it was shitty. He had just broke up with his long term girlfriend, Micaela, and right now he was in that phase after a breakup where you feel like nothing exists for you anymore. He had come to me for advice on multiple accounts, but the most I could ever offer him was a “I’m sorry,” or experiental advice I knew he wouldn’t believe for a long time.

“How’s your life?” He asked.

“It’s been okay.”

“Just okay? Why isn’t it fantastic?” He was looking at me with those icy cold blue eyes. They were as analytical as a scientist and as beautiful as a winter sky, set in a snow white frame with a hint of sleepless nights within the dark rings beneath. The marks were like burning ash on new fallen snow, and yet I couldn’t help but smile.

“Yeah, it’s okay. No reason.” I said.

“Well that’s depressing.”

“You’re depressing.” He said, grinning. Then he packed his sketch away with his headphones. He stretched, and lied down on my lap. I laughed nervously as my pulse began to race. I hoped he couldn’t hear it, but he never seemed to listen closely enough to hear even a beat.

“Did I ever tell you what happened?” He asked, rubbing the corner of his nose before shading his eyes from the fall sun. I touched the tips of his gelled black hair with the palm of my hand, focusing on Odin’s cross he wore around his neck.

“Not really. I never asked because I figured you’d tell me on your own if you were going to.” He smiled, the smile I hadn’t seen on his face for me in over a year and I had to look away. That smile was filled with an admiration I had once belive was a crush, a crush I had been willing to reciprocate and yet was mistakenly never returned. “Besides that, how’s...I don’t even know.” Mindlessness was another symptom I developed whenever I was around him.

“You’re so pretty.” He said abruptly and my heart nearly stopped. “I’m really digging the whole 90s goth rock thing you have going on. But your hair! It’s dead.”

“Look at your hair! Spiked hair went went out in the 90s.” I said, earning a serious look from him.

“I’m bringing sexy back.” He said with a straight face. I broke out in another fit of laughter.

“Sure you are.” I said.

“I’m dead serious. As much as your hair.” I laughed again.

“Shut up! You’re so weird.”

“So are you, but you’re weirder than me.” He retorted.

“So said the person who has no friends.”

“I know, right?” He said and paused, “You’re the only person I’m close with anymore.”

“Aww, it’s okay. I have like no friends either.” I said. He got up from my lap, checking the time on his phone.

“We should be going to class,” He said, and my phone buzzed in my pocket. It was our friend Jimmy.

“I hate you.” I narrowed my eyes at him. He looked stunned by this change in conversation, not realizing I was joking.

“Why do you hate me?” He asked, looking genuinely confused.

“For giving Jimmy my number. He gave me that ‘you’ve forever placed me in the friend-zone’ bullshit last night.” He relaxed a little bit and shrugged.

“That’s devastating for a man.” I laughed.

“So? You’ve had me in the friend zone for two years.” He smiled, “You don’t see me complaining.”

“There’s a difference between being friend zone and having someone liking you as a friend. From a friend zone you’re forever barred from being with that person, but when you’re liked just as a friend there’s always a chance.” He answered. I didn’t finish hearing what he was saying, because my thoughts were racing and I was blushing profusely. We parted ways in our buildings, and he gave me a hug before leaving.


The next day, my phone hummed as I walked through the sidewalk, my race a little more harder today. He told me to meet him in the library. My heart stopped, jumping off that cliff into the abyss. Once again as if he could detect me, he lifted his head from what he was doing on the computer, his face lighting up.

“Hey, what’s up?” He asked as I sat down next to him.

“Nothing much. How are you today?” I asked, realizing he wasn’t listening to music, the first time in weeks.

“I’m doing better, actually.” He wasn’t taking his eyes off the computer, but when I glanced at the screen he tried to move the screen away from me, his eyes guarded as he studied my face.

“What? So you’re talking to Michaela again on Facebook.” I tried to sound nonchalantly as I shrugged. I don’t like him anymore. I’ve told myself over and over, I was starting to believe the lie. We lapsed into silence, the first time that has happened for a long time.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“Nothing. There’s nothing much to say.” He said, and I chuckled.

“Of course there is. There is an entire world and beyond of things to say.” I said, crossing my arms and looking down at my lap. “You never got back to me about hanging out last week.”

He hesitated, “Sorry about that. My phone does this thing where it acts up and then sees the messages multiple times, so by the time I got your text it was like six hours later. Let me show you.” He pulled out his phone and began to show me exactly what he meant.

“No, I believe you.” I said and smiled, just like I did every other time he tried to tell me something I considered absolute bullshit. His phone worked great when he needed me and Michaela was mad, or when he wasn’t dating her and he tried to get me to be his fuck buddy.

“If I was asking for booty call you would’ve answered your phone.” I thought to myself sorely, but instead said. “You have a birthday coming up. Go out and do something.”

“There’s nothing in town.” He complained.

“Well we can hang out.” I said. He gave me a weird look.

“That’s not what I meant. I meant music.” He answered.

“No it isn’t.” I said, standing up. “We got to get to class.”

“Yes it is.” He stood up too, clicking out of Facebook and his game of Solitaire quickly. “That’s exactly what I mean. No music in town. I’d want to go to a concert.”

“Yeah?” I answered. “I never went to a concert.”

“You should. It’s an experience like no other. No concert is exactly the same.” He said as we walked to our building.

“Hey, give me a hug.” I answered. When he hugged me, he turned his head, not looking at me. I remembered a time when he’d put his head on top of mine, or looked down at me when we hugged. Something so small and yet it felt like a way he was trying to pull away from me, like he was giving me the wrong signals and wanted to distance himself. I wanted to yell at him to not distance himself, but I would just be wanting more and more of him, which he couldn’t give to me. I wasn’t special enough to get that piece of him, and it tore at me inside.

“Happy Birthday, okay?” I said as he pulled away.

“Thank you.” He called over his shoulder as we walked our separate ways.

I told myself I wasn’t going to get attached again, because he would never want me in the way I wanted him. I’d give him my all, but he’d never want to reciprocate. He wanted me when it was a benefit to him. I wanted to believe he was the asshole, he was selfish and isolated and condescending. I deserved better, and yet at the same time, I wondered what was wrong with me.

I put my headphones on in my Psychology class as I awaited my teacher’s arrival.

I want a perfect body, I want a perfect soul
Could it be because I was too much to handle? Was I too much trouble to care for? He was one of the only ones that knew I had depression as bad as I did, and an eating disorder to match.

I want you to notice, when I’m not around
He never cared. I texted him, but he never responded. Just like any other day. He blamed it for being in class, but whenever he texted me I was here right away. Even when he was home, he didn’t always text back.

I wish I was special, so damn special
I wanted him to see more than what I showed him. I wanted to see every part of me, without the idiotic comments I made and the poor attempts I made at sentences whenever I was near him.

But I’m a creep,
I’m a weirdo,
What the hell am I doing here?
I don’t belong here…

I didn’t belong in his world, because he didn’t belong in mine. Odds are I never did and never will, but gosh, it was so hard to stop trying.