Sarawat's Story

Part IX: Sarawat's Pain and Pleasure

Sorry, I can't do lunch today. Raincheck?

Half-asleep I read Tine's text message before I threw my phone across the apartment onto the couch. I covered my face with a pillow, groaning loudly into it. I wasn't out of bed yet, and Tuesday was already putting me in a foul mood. Sleep had done little to make me feel less vulnerable with Tine knowing my feelings for him. We had spoken before I fell asleep, and I thought our texting would help alleviate the gnawing anxiousness I had felt. But one cancelled lunch text had thrown that tiny bit of reassurance out of the window.

All morning I overanalyzed Tine's lunch cancellation. If, as Green had predicted, Tine had spent the night thinking about my confession, his lunch cancellation could be seen as nothing but a bad omen. I reread every text Tine had sent to me the night before. I looked for anything significant in his words that could give me a clue as to how he was feeling about me after I had confessed my feelings for him. I picked apart each line of our conversation for clues I might have missed.

Just before lunch I decided to message Tine: You sure you can't do lunch today?

Sorry, he replied, I have to meet the academic advisor at 12. And then I have class at 1:30. I don't think I'm gonna have lunch today.

I had no appetite, but I bought a sandwich and chips from the dining hall. I didn't want anyone to bother me, so I spread my books and notebooks across an empty table to make it seem that I was busy studying and shouldn't be disturbed. As I stared down at a blank sheet of paper I wondered if I had been too aggressive towards Tine. The fake confrontation with Green had definitely shifted the dynamics in our friendship. In Tine's mind, I assumed, if he no longer viewed Green as a threat, he really had no reason to keep me around unless he genuinely enjoyed our friendship. I had also confessed to Tine that I had feelings for him, and I knew that any forceful moves on my part could disrupt the delicate balance of our relationship.

I also began to feel uneasy about seeing Tine as I walked towards the soccer field later that afternoon. The soccer team had practice, and the cheerleaders were going to be practicing on the sidelines. Spending the day dissecting my friendship with Tine had only created more anxiety. What should I do? What should I say? Should I approach him or should I wait until he approaches me? What if he is waiting on me to approach him, and he thinks I am giving him the cold shoulder? Or what if I approach him and he gets nervous around me?

When the cheerleaders began practicing and Tine hadn't shown up, I thought I had dodged a bullet. I wouldn't have to face Tine yet. Still, my anxiety only continued to rise. I became distracted by the nagging thoughts now amplified in my mind because of Tine's absence. Tine wasn't the only cheerleader missing from practice, but his absence was the only one that mattered to me. He had cancelled lunch and now he wasn't at practice. No excuse I could think of in my head made as much sense as the most basic reason: Tine is avoiding me.

My performance on the field was abysmal. I couldn't shake that horrible feeling away, no matter how hard I tried to concentrate on practice. Playing soccer had long been my outlet for most of my emotions, but my love of playing the game was no match for the fear that I was about to lose Tine. My teammates tried joking with me to get my head in the game, but under their jokes I could sense that they were annoyed with my inability to focus and perform. By the time practice was over, I sulked off the field without even telling anyone goodbye.

I vowed that I wouldn't call or text Tine after I'd gotten home from practice. The ball is in his court, I reminded myself. Be patient! But patience, especially when it came to Tine, was not my strongest attribute. The uneasy feeling deep in the pit of my stomach had only one cure: Tine. I needed to talk to him to make sure he and I were still friends. I needed him to explicitly tell me so. At the very least, I just needed him to laugh or smile with me, even through text messages.