mike writes poems or whatever

ocd

the first time i asked out a boy i rehearsed it in my head what felt like a million times and asked him if he would "like to go out" ten times in the span of a minute.
he watched with wide eyes and became increasingly amused with how flustered it made me that i just couldn't get it right.
he said yes after attempt number ten, but not before pausing to make sure that the tenth time's the charm, and he took my hand.
my fingers were bleeding. i couldn't stop picking at my fingers. my fingers wouldn't stop bleeding.
he didn't care.
that was the first time that no one's cared
they say that if you step on a crack you break your mother's​back. i could never do that to her. i had a nice rhythm going the first time i walked him home, despite the fact i had to go back and start over ten times so i could get the footwork down, even thought attempt eight felt pretty good, i just had to make sure.
we went into his house and watched movies. i checked the door ten times after he closed it behind me to make sure it was locked.
he wanted cookies. after they were done i checked the oven ten times.
he doesn't slow down at the cracks in the sidewalk anymore. he groans after door check number five and refuses to let me tap his soda can two times before he opens it even though i know its not going to explode.
he doesn't give me the same wide eyed look when i stutter over attempt number three. i wonder if i imagined it all. maybe if i just say it a few more times, I'll get it right.