Only You

Chapter 1

I need to remember to pack my books on my dresser, I don't know if we'll be using them tomorrow already, but I need to pack them just in case. Rather safe than sorry, that's what my mom always say. I turn to face the clock on the tiny desk in my room, how is it not even 12 o'clock? it feels like I've been laying in this bed for 5 hours running my day through my head. You'd think that the first day of the new year would be something a fourth year psychology major would be used you. I've always been stressed about these kind of things, I'm afraid I'll forget something or that something goes wrong, it never has, but I can feel my anxiety creeping in. I can feel my heart rate increasing and I feel a bit sick. It doesn't make sense, I know, but this is just who I am, I think and think and think, and then think some more, I think I'm and overthinking over thinker, it isn't normal I know, but I'm trying to control it. I roll over on my other side and briefly consider turning on my TV, and watching the first episode of friends for the tenth time, but I decide against it, I need to get some sleep. I pull my bed cover over my head, snuggle into my pillow and shut my eyes, hoping that sleep will creep in. I start to think about how my day will go again but I didn't get that far, sleep caught up and I'm thankful for that. My alarm goes off at 5 and a nearly knock it off the desk with a pillow, I remember when I thought it a good idea to set up my alarm in the furthest corner of my room, because I thought it would force me to get up out of my bed to turn it off, not having snooze as an option, I've regretted that since I've started doing it, but it really works. I get up and turn it off. I go down stairs and start the kettle, hoping coffee will take my stress away. While I'm waiting for the kettle to boil I take a spoonful of peanut butter and shove it down my throat. I am supposed to workout but I've never really been one of those girls who manage to get up early and do it, yet here I am. I take a cup from the cupboard and place it on the counter, rubbing my eye I add one heaped up spoon of coffee power and one small spoon of sugar, I then add the milk and cream it a bit, I don't like it when my coffee tastes like it burned, I like my coffee as strong as the next person, but it needs to taste like coffee, nor tar.

I take a sip of my coffee and I feel some of the stress leaving my body. I turn off the kitchen light and head back upstairs. When I enter my bedroom I decide against working out and rather continue reading my book, I didn't like it at first, but now I can't seem to finish it fast enough, I'm not a person who find early literature very intriguing, but here I am, devouring every page, wondering who could possibly love a man who is so prideful and has a superiority complex. As this thought crosses my mind I'm reminded that I once loved an arrogant man too, giving him everything I had while receiving nothing in return, and for a long time, I was okay with that, with the scraps he tossed my way every now and then. I was drained near the end, but I kept on giving until I finally broke. Until he finally broke me. The hopeful girl who once so vividly believed in love and in him, got a taste of something burning her throat and cheeks at two in the morning just at the thought of him, he was always enough for me, it was me who seemingly wasn't enough for him. I'm ripped from my morbid thoughts as evidences of the sun's warm rays appear on the foot end of my bed and I realise it's time for me to get up and get ready for my day.

I quickly head for the shower, before Jane, my roommate gets the chance to occupy it first. The warm water feels so good on my body, and I briefly remember a time where I used to come to this same shower to cry – and now I strangely find myself wishing I could stay in here all day, not to cry, but for the feeling of safeness that I found in the hot water. When I'm finally done topping about my past two years, I turn the water off and pat myself dry with a towel that smells like rose, Jane did some washing yesterday. I head to my room and get dressed for my day. I consider curling my hair, but the need to finish my book while I'm waiting for Jane quickly overpowers my need to look pretty today. I put on some jeans and a sweater with a warm coat, the new year is just as cold as my heart has been for the last few months. I finish eight chapters of my book by the time Jane yells "Are you coming?" from downstairs, I grab my bag, put down my book on the bed side table and take a deep breath before I head down.