𝕿𝖍𝖔𝖗𝖓 𝕯𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖍

        “Don’t do it,” I say. “There are better things that you could do.”
        Even as I’m speaking, I know the words are falling on deaf ears. I’m not surprised when I find myself picking up the phone. I sigh. No matter how hard I try, I can never steer myself away from my own compulsions. For the eleventh time today, I click on the address at the top of my search history. I have it all memorised now; the address, the distance, even the coordinates. I don’t need to keep looping it up. But I can’t help it. I need to.
        Twenty-three minutes. It’s always a twenty-three minute walk after the night hours hit. Unless it’s Saturday night.
        I put my phone down. Twenty-three minutes isn’t that far away. I could walk there, see him, and be back within two hours. I’ve done it before. I know that I said last time would be the last time, but why can’t this be the last time instead?
        I shake my head. I need better hobbies. I can’t keep running to him every time I get a taste of boredom. I’m acting like I’m addicted to him; like I’ll die if I don’t go. God, I’m so desperate. I should call someone – anyone. I don’t even remember the last time I saw my friends or even my family. I’ve been so fixated on him.
        But twenty-three minutes is closer than twenty-nine.
        I get off of my bed and put on my shoes. Twenty-three minutes are closer than twenty-nine, but it’s also where bad habits lie.
        I step out of my apartment and stare down the street. It’s still only twenty-three minutes. I could go there, visit him, and then turn around and walk to Serena’s house. Who’s going to care besides me? I start walking in his directions. I need to see him. I don’t think that I’ll be able to think about anything else until I do. Serena doesn’t even know that I’m wanting to go to her house, so it’s not like I’m being unfair to her by going to him instead. I’m not doing anything wrong.
        Except for betraying my own inner peace.
        I swiftly turn around and start going the other way. I need to break this habit. I deserve to get out of this pattern. He can’t be the only thing that I ever think about. I had a life before. Why don’t I get to have one now? Besides, Serena keeps messaging me and begging me to come over. She misses me. It’s not fair to keep her waiting for me. She deserves my attention too, right? She’s my best friend.
        But he’s the love of my life.
        I turn around again. I’m not going to be able to concentrate on anything until I’m there. I’ve done this before. My thoughts will continue circling and cycling until I’m standing in front of him. Only then will I know peace. He will consume all of my thoughts until then.
        And then he’ll consume all of my thoughts when I leave again.
        I turn back towards Serena’s house. This will never stop unless I stop it. I can’t go that way again. I said that last time was the last time, and I meant it. I need to stop.
        I also said that the time before last was the ‘last time’, so does it really matter what I say? I turn around.
        Serena is missing me the way that I’m missing him, I’m sure. I turn around.
        But I can feel the burning underneath my skin. I need to see him if I ever want to know peace. I turn around.
        I will never know peace if I don’t have the strength to do something else. I turn around.
        “Yo, are you okay?”
        A man’s sudden yell breaks me from my trance. I look over to see his car next to the curb. The hazard lights are on and the door is open. I look at him. He looks worried for me. I must look really crazy. I feel my cheeks flush with embarrassment.
        “Yes, I’m fine,” I answer quietly. “Sorry to cause any concern.”
        “Are you sure? Do you need any help?”
        “No, thank you. I’m fine.”
        He’s reluctant, but he eventually decides to get back in his car and leave. I sit on the curb. Have I lost all sense of sanity? There’s no way that I was just walking back and forth, turning all sorts of ways, without any consideration of how it looks to the public. Am I really so entranced by him that I’ve lost my ability to remain aware of myself. And what about my surroundings? I hadn’t even noticed the car pull up or the driver walk towards me. He could have attacked me and I wouldn’t have been able to defend myself. I need to get a grip.
        I need to see Serena. I need anyone who’s not him right now.
        One, two, three. Count the steps. Focus on the steps. Four, five, six. If I pay attention to them, I won’t be able to think. Seven, eight, nine. I can do it – I know I can. Ten, eleven, twelvety. Serena can help me. Fourteen, thirteen, Logan. No, fifteen. Fifteen is a number. Sixteen, seven, eight…
        Logan.
        I stop walking. What number was I on? I lost count somewhere, or maybe I was always confused. Okay, we’ll just restart. One, two, three, nine, sixteen, Logan. No. One, two, three, five, Logan. No. One, Logan.
        Fuck it.
        I turn back around. I need him. I have him too far under my skin to just not go. My brain would sooner short circuit and break than let him go. I can’t even count anymore. I need him the way that I need oxygen. Denying myself of him feels like dying. And if I can’t live without him, then not going to him would be like suicide. I can’t kill myself. That’d be cruel. So obviously the only option for me here is to see him. Of course.
        Five minutes. No more than an hour. I don’t need to be with him all night, and afterwards I can go see Serena. I can get the thing I need, then the thing I want. Everyone will benefit. And I won’t be with him for more than two hours. That’s still an act of good health, right? Yes, of course.
        I start running. Each step forward feels like a step to freedom; to peace. This is the most alive I have felt since last night – when I last saw him. I recognise that there is a direct relation between me seeing him and my ability to be happy. Of course I should go there, then. I deserve to be happy. Some people paint, others go dancing, I just happen to visit Logan. And that’s okay. There’s nothing wrong with that. My vice can be a person. Who says otherwise? It’s okay. It’s okay. It’s… Logan.
        When I can finally see his dwelling, I slow down to a fast walk. I’m almost there. I can feel the exhilaration building up inside of me. My heart feels like it’s about to explode – although I’m actually not sure if that’s because of the excitement or the twenty minute sprint I just did. Either way, I feel great. A little winded, but that’s okay. Logan will make me forget about it. He always does.
        I check the time. Ten forty-one. There’s no reason for me to knock and rush him out. He’ll be coming outside soon anyway. I sit on a nearby bench to wait. Logan is a very punctual, routine-based person. He always has been. He does the same things at the same times every day. I shouldn’t have to wait any longer than twenty minutes, if that.
        To pass the time, I focus on my surroundings. He lives in a much more serene part of the city than I do. Even though it’s so close, there’s an obvious difference. They have more trees over here. And a yard. My ‘yard’ is actually a balcony. They have more outdoor space here; although, our living quarters are pretty similar. My bedroom apartment is a little bit larger than the ones they have over here. I guess the scenery has to come with a downside to keep the residents humble.
        I check the time and frown. Eleven-eleven. Logan is running late tonight. I hope that he’s okay.
        A squirrel runs in front of me. I keep my eye on it as it travels up one of the trees. I like watching squirrels. I think they’re funny; except for when they’re pelting me with walnuts. That happened once when I was waiting at the bus stop. I told it to stop, and it just chattered at me, then threw another one. It hit me right in the head. I’m pretty sure that I heard the squirrel laugh too. The little bastard.
        I check the time again. Eleven forty-three. Where is he?
        I knock, but Logan doesn’t come out. I knock a second time. When he still doesn’t come out, I go back to the bench. He should appear soon. I see him every other night. Why is this one different? I can feel the anxiety building up inside of me again. My heart feels like it’s going to fall out of me now. I kind of want to vomit. I know he’s safe, he doesn’t go anywhere where he’s at risk, but he should be here. Does he not want to see me anymore? Did he decide that he’s done with me? I know I’m wishy-washy, but I do love him. He knows that, right? He should know that, right?
        I check the time. Midnight.
        I know that I told him yesterday that I wasn’t going to come see him anymore, but I say that almost all the time. Why did he take me seriously this time? Or maybe he’s decided to practice some self-respect and give up on me. I know that not a lot of people would be willing to tolerate the constant back and forth. But I can’t help him. I want to let him go, but I am physically incapable of it. I think that I am actually addicted to him. I can’t exist without him; not happily or in health. Although, I’m not sure that I’m happy or healthy now.
        The time: Twelve twenty-nine.
        The sound of footsteps steals my attention. I jump up swiftly and spin around. But as soon as I do, my smile drops. It’s not Logan.
        “What, you’re not happy to see me?” Serena jokes.
        I plop back down on the bench, sulking. She sits next to me. Neither one of us say anything. I don’t feel like talking to her right now. I want to talk to Logan. I need to talk to Logan. But I can’t tell her to go away. That would be rude.
        “Darren came over,” She says. “He told me that he saw you acting weird on the sidewalk; frantically pacing and muttering to yourself. He told me that when he drove off, you were walking in my direction. When you didn’t show up, I assumed that you had come here.”
        “You were right,” I mutter.
        “I see that.” Serena leans against the bench, stretching out her legs. “Why are we here?”
        “I’m waiting for Logan. He comes outside every night. I was hoping to see him.”
        “‘Was’? Is he not here?”
        “I think he’s mad at me. I tried knocking, two times even, and he hasn’t come out. I don’t think he wants to see me anymore.” A lump starts to form in my throat. I start taking some slow breaths to calm down. I don’t want to cry. Not yet. Not here.
        “When was the last time you saw him?”
        “Yesterday.”
        Serena nods. “Yeah, that makes sense. You’ve been seeing him every day, right?”
        “Yeah. Eleven on the dot every night.”
        “Has he said anything weird to you?”
        I look at her. “Weird like how?”
        “Like, maybe, ‘you need to let go’? Something like that?”
        I take a moment to think. “No. Why?”
        “Look at where we are. Like, actually look. What do you see?”
        I rotate my head around. A sense of panic washes over me as some of the trees begin disappearing. The complex that I’ve been knocking on shrinks down to a mausoleum. Then I notice all of the tombstones surrounding us. And right where the complex used to be is one that reads ‘Logan DuVall’, directly below where his window used to be. I frantically start searching my brain for any explanation. A vague memory of a funeral surfaces. I look at Serena again.
        “How long has it been?
        She leans her head on my shoulder. “Nine years. We tried getting you help, but you were so insistent that it was all real. I didn’t want us to upset you and cause you to fall deeper into… whatever it’s called. I figured that eventually the fog would clear, or I’d be able to convince you to see a counselor some other way.”
        I lean my head against hers. I try to replay my recent memories of seeing Logan. Even though I know they’re not real, I still feel a strong connection to them. I can’t imagine how I’ve looked to the public eye all this time. And what about me? I’m still so desperate for him. How am I supposed to mourn our breakup and his apparent death at the same time? I could fall apart again and slip into another false reality. What if I wake up tomorrow and decide that Serena is my enemy? There’s no way she’d lie to me, right? And if she did, how did she change the environment? That doesn’t make sense. There’s no way this is fake. But Logan? Dead? He was just alive yesterday, I swear to God.
        Wasn’t he?
        “Serena…”
        I can’t bring myself to say it. I try my hardest, but the words don’t come out. I feel her moving and lift my head out of her way. She shifts her body around to face me, then embraces me. I nestle my head into her shoulder.
        “I know, honey,” She says. “I know. You can stay with me tonight. We’ll take you somewhere in the morning where you can get help.”