Screw Tomorrow

Now that I've become even more aware of you, my paranoia has skyrocketed to new heights of absurdity. Every time you glance at me, my skin crawls and my throat goes dry--where did my damn bottle of water go??? I wonder if you know. I wonder if I'm that obvious. I can't be.

Right?

...no. It's definitely possible. But maybe that's a good thing because when we look at each other now, I sense you searching me, scrutinizing me, like you know something's off about our dynamic but you can't quite put your finger on it. And I will keep on behaving like a wind-up toy ready to spring until you corner me one day after class and ask me what the fuck is going on.

And that's when I know that it is time.