This essay was originally written in March 2017.
The way she tripped and then fell for him was entirely unpleasant.
It began with a tickle in her throat–that persistent presence signaling her forthcoming affliction. Clawing at her tonsils, it swelled up her head and descended a cloud of fog upon her mind. The idea of him–a pesky tenant–just wouldn’t leave.
Next came the sniffles: constant, unyielding inhalations not quite enough to pull him all in and provide a momentary relief of clarity. Her nose and head bloomed with cotton, a heavy, downy blanket diluting her sense of smell, but heightening her sense of him.
Trying to sleep at night was next to impossible. It wasn’t so much that the body was weighed down with him-ness; no, rather he was the driver on the racetrack of her thoughts. He circled round and round and round, drawing infinities with the neurons linking and crossing over to spell H-I-M in cursive.
A day turned into several turned into a week of being under the weather, where he fueled the tornado of her being.
A week–seven days of this…sickness, and she tried to remember what it was like before.
Before she came down with a case of him, flighty, airy thoughts swirled in her head. Their ephemerality was usual and welcomed, for that meant nothing heavy–like this–stayed long enough to be indelible. To be clear, her mind was still a growing Rolodex of grand ideas she liked to sift through, ideas like existence and death and significance of being (or lack thereof). Nothing like this, however, had captivated her previously.
It started two Tuesdays ago, at a coffeeshop no less. Landon Pigg was mellifluously crooning through the speakers, and, ironically, “Falling In Love at a Coffeeshop” itched to hint at reality. He sat one table over chatting with a friend, and she, doing the same, first noticed the shock of hair. Wild, uninhibited, mopping over turquoise eyes, it sparked curiosity in her. She–engaged in animated conversation with her companion–lingered then averted her eyes when they met his the first time.
The second time, she sunshined a shy smile.
The third time, their gaze persisted.
It ended there.
She and him both left at respective times, disengaging from their physical co-presence.
It ended there–or so she thought.
A day turned into several turned into a week of not being able to get those sea eyes and sinuous smile out of her head. She began to feel sick.
Seven days–a week, and finally, she couldn’t take it any more.
Last Tuesday she finally went to the drugstore for some medicine
“Do you have a cure for lovesickness?” she inquired at the counter.
The bespectacled pharmacist, with kindly, laughter-lined eyes, peered down at her, wearing a curious smile.
“I’m sorry, ma’am, we don’t seem to carry that pill.”
Her stomach dropped, then turmoiled to high tide. Riding the wave, she couldn’t quite ascertain the cause of this sudden turbulence.
Was it the continuing sailing of his ship in the ocean of her thoughts, or the knowledge that this seasickness would have to tumultuously broil on?
She trudged out of the pharmacy slowly, careful not to upset the precarious balance between being a well-contained vessel and spilling onto the pavement. Miraculously, with concerted effort, she shed not a drop.
As she walked home, slouched body a question mark, her mind swirled through possibilities of how to recover. Here were the facts: Yes, she came down with a case of him. Yes, she felt sick. And no, she could not shake this head and heart cold, it seemed. Rounding the corner, she made up her mind.
She was determined.
She was going to get over her affliction, over him. Yes, she was going to take this head on.
Walking a little taller, with purpose echoing each stride, she was going to sail the high seas and mentally make her way to calmer waters. Her mind would unfog, and then bloom, this time, with clarity and radiance.
Her surroundings slowly but surely came back into vivid focus. Colors jumped, the air filled her lungs with crisp newness and levity, and she inhaled a renewed meaning. She admired the individual blades of grass, veins on leaves of lush foliage, and the verdant bursts of rose and honeysuckle bushes in her midst.
Suddenly, a striking green flashed before her, intruding her line of sight. A millisecond glance, and she knew that shade. That rolling, sparkling sea-green. Sure enough, those were the same eyes, the same sinuous smile. She looked again, and the waves swallowed her whole.\