To Loke: Part 4

Disclaimer: The image accompanying this story was generated using artificial intelligence (AI) technology. It is not a depiction of real people or events. The story and its characters are entirely fictional and are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual individuals, living or deceased, or events is purely coincidental. 

What is the line between love, admiration, and obsession – it’s like tiptoeing on a tightrope made of emotional chaos. Weeks have passed since our last encounter, and I find myself in a constant state of mental acrobatics, as not a single day goes by without your image invading my thoughts. It’s been a while since I’ve felt such intense emotions for someone, and it’s exhausting to navigate through them. Right now, I’m a mere shell, a walking, talking husk among people who mean nothing to me, while your memory plays on an endless loop, both brightening and saddening my mind. Pathetic? Yeah, but who said emotions played fair? 

I found myself once again at another afterwork event, not for the camaraderie or the beverages, but in the desperate hope to catch a glimpse of you. Alas, you were a no-show, much to my disappointment, leaving me to drown my shallowness in laughter and small talk. There I was, sitting, sipping my drink, engaging in conversations, and putting on a facade of cheerfulness to hide the emptiness inside. But every now and then, you would sneak into my thoughts, and I would find myself mentally free-falling into a pit of sadness. I half-expected you not to show up, thinking you must have sensed my presence and decided to spare me further agony.

In the desolate office building, I would wander aimlessly, hoping to accidentally stumble upon you. I felt lonely and lost in that endless labyrinth of empty office corridors, where the more I yearned for you, the less likely our paths seemed to cross, and the maze of my emotions seemed to grow more intricate with each passing day. Letting the thoughts of you go felt incredibly wrong, like peeling off an old bandage, knowing that even though the wound beneath may have healed, the process of unveiling would sting anew, and I feared an even greater void it would create.

One gloomy November afternoon when darkness descended shortly after lunchtime., the office windows once again framed my solitary contemplation. There you were, leaving the building, dressed lightly as always, a fleeting silhouette against the dreary backdrop. I took a step back from the window, not wanting to be seen by chance, but I stayed close enough to see you hop on your bike and leave. The ache in my chest expanding with each step you took away. It was a moment frozen in time, etched in the cold glass of the window, a visual representation of the distance between us. For a second, I saw my hollow reflection, and in that very moment my spirit burst like an overflown water balloon. I had to gather myself and make my way home with the weight of unspoken emotions.

I had completely given up on the idea of ever meeting you. And the thought of asking you out felt like navigating a minefield of potential rejection or awkwardness. I always fear coming across as imposing, but people often confuse my caution with outright arrogance. But truth be told, I'm haunted by the fear of being hurt, the terror of not being fascinating enough to be worthy of a place in someone’s social entourage. Writing this down has become a form of catharsis, a way to express the turmoil of emotions within me. Maybe someday, I’ll look back at those memories and either laugh at my naivety or shed tears at my misery – likely both.

Today, as I was sitting by the window, sipping my morning coffee, and gazing at the parking lot, I caught sight of you. Instantly, a wave of relief washed over me, and the prospect of seeing you propelled me to new heights of optimism. While sitting in the lobby, engaging in small talk with my colleagues, I couldn't help but scan the surroundings, hoping you were around. And just when I least expected it, there you were, passing by. You stopped, and engaged me in conversation. Time stood still, and the world around us blurred into insignificance. Your eyes, like warm embers, held my attention captive. Your eyebrows danced up and down, and your laughter filled the air as you shared stories and jokes. Why must you be so perfect? I wonder if my admiration was painfully obvious. I could have stood there forever, listening to your clever remarks about professors and assignments. Sadly, I had to return to work, as I had already taken up too much time. Although I desperately wished I didn't have to. "See you around," you said. Those words pierced through me, knowing they would echo in my mind long after the day had faded into memory.

Read other parts dedicated to Loke.

Morph: I can make all your fantasies come true Scott . . .

Sinister: Let the spell take you to where you have always longed to be.