Mistletoe

December 8th

Monday December 8th

05.57am

I'd been tossing and turning all night. It didn't seem like I could catch some sleep for the life of me, no matter how much I tried. Every time I woke up I'd check the time only to have it show me I'd only been out for an hour or two. Finally, at six in the morning, I gave up. I rolled out of bed, immediately pulling my hair into a high ponytail by using the elastic I always kept on my wrist in case I'd need it. And as a barista I always seemed to need it.

My running shoes where right where I'd left them upstairs on the shoe rack and once I'd put all my running gear on and attached my old mp3 player to my upper arm, I left the sleeping house behind me and set out to run.

There was a light layer of morning mist that seemed to gravitate towards the surface of the grass that surrounded me as I entered the large park. The fog made everything look more serene, and pure. The nature looked untouched as I made my way through it, my bad stamina making puffs of smoke appear in front of me as I ran.

My annoyance was what fueled me to push further as I exited the park and headed down through town. I just needed to move and not think. This was what the whole purpose was and even though my lungs burned from the pressure, and my already sore muscles screamed in protest, I didn't stop. 

Because I needed this. This was what I craved. A mental release to save me from my own over analytic, stressful, paranoid thoughts.

The same things had been on a repetitive loop all night; the trip to the ice rink and the upcoming meteor shower. Both had now manifested so deep in my head that it had the power to drive me insane, simply because my mind now seemed to be made up of a deafening chorus of what ifs.

What if I was reading too much into things?

What if he didn't have as good of a time as me?

What if everything just went to hell tomorrow?

And it just went on and on. If there was an implausible, but catastrophic, event that could be conjured up inside my mind, you'd bet that I'd already thought of it, and more. Catastrophic thinking seemed to have become my forte. Because after all, we could go to see that meteor shower together and I'd do or say something stupid and we'd head back early and we'd crash the car and die. It didn't seem very likely, but it was just one of many things that my mind liked to point out to me was a possibility.

I was annoyed and borderline angry as I ran. It was not lost on me that this would be the first time in five consecutive days that I wouldn't see Parker, at all, but that wasn't what annoyed me the most; what annoyed me was how I felt about that fact. It made me restless, anxious and not to mention a little sad to know that I wouldn't be able to see him, or talk to him, until tomorrow night. Suddenly tomorrow seemed very far away.

When I admitted those things to myself I only ended up pushing myself harder as I went onto the route that would eventually lead me back home. Why did I feel this way? Why couldn't I just be in denial like any other normal teenager, instead of being so hyper aware of my own feelings? I didn't even have any right to feel the way that I did because I didn't know Parker well enough for him to be able to conjure up these emotions in me, or so I'd thought.

Turns out you don't really have to know someone very well in order for your emotions to begin running rampant. Apparently all it takes is a look, a smile and a laugh. I knew that wasn't all it took, but it certainly did help his case in this situation. For instance I couldn't deny the feelings that traveled through me when he said my name, or the way he'd talk with a passion I couldn't even begin to grasp in life. The way he'd run his hand through his hair when he seemed nervous, or when he stuffed his hands into his pockets as he waited for me to answer a question, silently gauging my reactions, trying to pluck the thoughts right from my head.