4: Stupid Fish Pond

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I can't sit still, so I don't. I stand up, ready to search the hotel we were staying at for her.

I begin, when I encounter a problem: I can't find her. She isn't anywhere I'm looking, and she certainly isn't in the dining room anymore. Why didn't I just follow her when she left? Why didn't I see when she left? Why wasn't I paying enough attention?

I go through the hotel one more time, and then another. And another. And another. Over and over and over again, as if my body is a song on repeat.

My circles grow increasingly tighter until I'm pacing a very consistent path: out the door, quick semicircle to the other door, in through that door, another semicircle through the first door, then repeat.

And all the time, thinking. I can't do anything but think.

What am I thinking about?

Take a guess.

Her.

My thoughts are in turmoil. I can't pick out a single individual thought; there's just this overwhelming sensation of her. It's constant, never letting up. If I talk to someone- and I'm sure I do, at some point- I hope they don't say anything important, because I don't remember it.

My head is in the highest reaches of heaven, singing with the angels. And it's in the deepest pits of hell, burning with the knowledge that I might not ever see her again.

I mentally shake myself. I have to stop thinking about her or I'll drive myself crazy. I need to stop pacing. It's not helping anything, and my legs are starting to hurt.

I head in a different direction, towards the lobby of the hotel. There's a fish pond there, with several fat koi fish swimming lazily around in maybe a foot of water. I stare at the fattest one- coincidentally, also the shortest- with the red spot on its back.

There isn't anything particularly fascinating about the fish, so I take a deep breath and prepare to venture once again into the dangerous realm of thinking about her.

I have to figure out if this was a squish or a crush. This is of utmost importance. If this is a crush, I can't keep calling myself heteroromantic. And that changes everything. I mean, not everything, exactly. Just... a lot of things.

It's easier being straight. A few months of identifying as ace had taught me that. As a heteroromantic asexual, I still received certain elements of straight privilege. As a biromantic or homoromantic asexual, I lost most of them.

I think about it. My initial reaction was squish. She was a girl! I was heteroromantic! Of course it was a squish, it can't be a crush.

But I can't really tell. Normally, there's something deep inside me that just knows these things. But I can't seem to hear that little voice. It's being drowned out by this unexpected wave of feeling.

I think about it some more. I run a few thought experiments. And I realize... I kind of want to kiss her. A little bit. Or maybe a medium bit. Or large bit. I mean, I really like her face, and her face seems like it would be a lot nicer if it were on mine.

There's nothing else to do but stick a label on this, cross my fingers, and hope I'm not wrong. So I do.

Which is when it hits me: what if she's straight? She probably is. Statistically speaking, anyway.

Stupid fish pond. Why'd you have to bring that up? I was quite happy in my queer little paradise before straight land had to go and show up. Go away, straight land, I left you behind four months ago. Stop stalking me!

Stupid straight people. Why'd they have to ruin all my fun? Well... If you could call this torture "fun."

But... It is. Somehow. Thinking about her makes me happy. In a weird, tortured kind of way. I look up, glancing around the lobby one more time in the vain hope that she'd pop up out of nowhere. She doesn't.

Shocker.

I give up looking for her. She had probably gone straight to her room the moment she finished dinner.

I can't blame her. It's exactly what I would have done if she wasn't there.

A/N
A few people have wondered this, so a squish is a platonic crush- you basically really, really want to be friends with someone.
Also, I have no problem with straight people, I'm just sad that all my female crushes are probably straight. I was very emotional at the time this happened so thoughts then don't necessarily line up with what I actually think, but I don't want to be inaccurate by leaving them out.
I included the music video because I love it to pieces and it's such an adorable story and gayness and rainbows and girls??
I hope you liked this chapter.

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