Stain [H.S] - Major Editing

6

"This looks promising." I muttered to myself as I clicked on the website.

Haphephobia- it is a rare specific phobia that involves the fear of touching or of being touched. It is an acute exaggeration of the normal tendencies to protect one's personal space, expressed as a fear of contamination or invasion.

Today, I conjured the notion that Harry Styles is haphephobic, not OCD, but haphephobic – the symptoms gave it all away. I didn't really know that this type of condition existed until I met him. And I kind of felt bad about myself even more. I shouldn't have encroached on his space, nor should I have attempted to touch him. He was clearly a person of territory.

But of course, he never really told me he has haphephobia. Maybe I'm just overanalyzing things. I tend to do that when I lock myself in my bedroom for hours, when I welcome the darkness. It truly is a scary thing; to be left alone with your thoughts. It can be destructive; can lead you to create hasty conclusions. Why was I doing this to myself anyway? Why did I trouble my mind with Harry's condition? Probably because I was looking for a reason to hate myself. That, or I'm just being a major creep. 

It was a gorgeous Sunday afternoon. It was my kind of weather; the sky overcast with enormous clouds and everything around me cool and humid. It was the perfect day. But there I was, analyzing Harry Styles like a fucking creep in a blanket burrito. Throw me a fucking clipboard and I might give him a mental status exam! My psychology professor would be proud. God, it's Harry's fault anyway. He had been avoiding me the past couple o' days since the "talk" in the lunch room, and I, not really having a choice, had done the same. The guy hated me. I could feel it.

Thinking about him and his "enigmatic" problems gave me an ocular migraine. I never really thought thinking about a person could give someone a headache. I turned off my laptop, deciding to stay in or go out for some fresh air. After a long debate with Houdini, my shoulder angel, I chose the latter.

I wrapped myself with a thick cardigan and stepped outside my apartment. The cool breeze felt lovely against my skin. I looked up and saw the mid-grey skies; faint glimmers of sunshine cascading down the smooth edges of the skyscrapers. As I took a turn down Summer Avenue, I decided to visit The Capitol - the local park located in the central city borough, and the ideal place to go for a walk around nature, around peace. My mind needed that, peace. More alone time, but peace.

Five more blocks and I finally arrived in The Capitol. I made my way through the wrought-iron gates and saw children running around the vast grassland. Everywhere it was green. The air was sweet and everything felt immediately right. As I walked further into the park, I saw benches and took a seat on one of them. It was so peaceful and quiet. I thought this was something that should be highly appreciated by the people considering that this place was right in the middle of the city.

Suddenly I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. I took it out and saw Fry's face blinking on the screen.

"What's up, beeswax?" I said.

"Oh nothing, just checking up on you. What ever is Alice Walker doing in this fine, lovely day?" He said and I smiled, knowing how grateful I am to have a best friend like him.

"Nothing much. I'm in The Capitol." I said, watching a cyclist pass by me.

"The Capitol, I hear?" His voice sounded teasing. "But that's where all the hipsters go. Wait, let me guess..." there was a pause. "You're trying to connect with your inner being aren't you?"

"Something like that. Hey about the Zayn issue—"

Then, just as I turned my head to the right, I see Harry walking towards me, and he didn't look happy.