Thoughts During Nothing

I arrived in Frankfurt last night, after my entire grueling journey, and now I’m already bored. Not too surprising, seeing as my parents live – as the Germans call it – Am Arsh der Welt; which translates to ‘the ass of the world’. No, that’s not the real name, but it sure fits the place. It’s a little, tiny village somewhere a kilometer or more outside Frankfurt (which is a boring as fuck city) where there is nothing to do and nowhere to go.

Actually, that isn’t really the problem. Normally that wouldn’t bother me one bit. It would be great to go nowhere and do nothing, except for my university application of course, but right now I’ve got other things on my mind: Woman. Yes, in the singular; for once.

One girl keeps constantly slipping back into my conscious, no matter what I’m doing or where I’m going. One name constantly gets whispered through my mind, stopping me in my tracks. That’s taking all the potential enjoyment out of the situation and making days that could blissfully slip by drag like fingernails along a two-week chalk board.

It’s been going on for a bit over a week now – and it’s quite frustrating. I’m not used to this. It hasn’t happened in a long time. My last relationship was different. That was a more gradual escalation until I, at one point, realised I was in love. That worked beautifully, by the way. It resulted in an amazing relationship that lasted for four years. This is different; this is a great deal more like torture.

I shouldn’t use the word love, to be honest about it; I think ‘infatuation’ is far more suitable word, especially since I haven’t known the girl for very long at all. As a matter of fact, we’ve only physically hung out for a little over two days. Yes, that’s right, two days and no I am not 14 years old, but thank you for asking.

For the last seven months so many people I met ended up harbouring feelings for me. I was flabbergasted (and secretly quite pleased with myself, admittedly), as I didn’t get the entire falling for somebody, thing. It hadn’t happened, that way, to me since the last year of uni. Now that it happened to me just before I buggered off from India, I realise that I might have been quite cruel to those people. A bit of poetic justice, anybody? A side helping of irony, perhaps?

Hold on, before you think that she doesn’t return any feelings. She does. She’s already admitted that she can’t get me out of her head, either. You’d think that would be enough for me. Of course it isn’t. Emotions have the annoying habit of not giving a shit about what your intellect tells them (I’ve talked about that often enough, up here). We’ve spoken every day since we’ve parted ways.

But then that fear starts to play through my mind ‘what if it was just a holiday thing for her, what if she’s starting to forget?’ And you’re all thinking ‘ah, but that won’t happen!’ but it does, you see. It’s happened to me a half a dozen times alone this trip. You meet somebody, you get along real well, you think there might be something happening there and three days after they’re gone (or even before) you’ve already moved on.

This time it might not have happened to me, but that in no way assures me that it isn’t happening with her; that she isn’t feeling as strongly now as originally, but doesn’t have the heart to tell me. Thoughts like these are continuously playing through my mind.

So, as you can see, sitting around here doing nothing is an almost sublime form of Chinese water torture. Psychologists have found that love (or infatuation) is actually a physical addiction and that being separated from the person of your affection can actually cause physical pain. I know exactly what they mean.