Mountains, molehills – what’s the difference? 

14th November 2016


I’m an 18-year-old and a romantic by nature. So it wouldn’t be a surprise that I read into every little action and word, and think that everything happens for a reason, and that there is a secret meaning behind every occurrence.Now, let me tell you about the day when hands touched briefly and sparks flew, literally. 

For a person who stays at home in a cocoon of blankets and pillows for most of her time, a comic convention is big deal. Time is necessary to prepare oneself for an emotionally draining event with thousands of people jostling you around. It couldn’t be too bad, could it? After all, the place would be filled with fangirls and fanboys such as myself. It turned out to be pretty damn fabulous. 
The highlight of the day was winning a Supernatural quiz. I must confess at this point, Supernatural is something I hold very close to my heart. I have watched spncon videos at 4am in the morning and missed school because I stayed up too late reading Destiel fanfiction. So if you think there’s a way I would let anyone at all beat me at a quiz, you are wrong. A friend of mine and I won together and we were asked to sing the theme song of the TV series. I was so caught up in the moment that I forgot to be shy. I belted out off-key verses of “Carry on my Wayward Son”. This friend, let us call him Wolf, and I have somewhat of a history, if you will. To cut a long story short, attraction of a worldly kind from his side and a pursuit for deeper and truer love from mine.
I’m kinda lame, I know. 
Let me paint you a picture: mouths a few inches apart to reach a shared microphone, a shared obsession for a fandom and for classic rock. To top it off, a winner’s seat we were asked to share and hands touching as we held the reward. 
Do you know those shocks you get sometimes from build up of electrostatic energy or something? I have never understood that entirely, but I’ve experienced it and I’m sure you have too. Would you believe it if I told you that at the moment we both reached for the gift, I felt one of those shocks? You have to, because it is true. By this time, the over-thinker and observer of little details within me had resurfaced. The high of the win was gone and I was blushing. Rather, I was appearing as flustered as my brown skin lets me appear. The organiser of the event had the nerve, the NERVE I tell you, to say “the chemistry between you two is tangible”.  I was screaming in my mind, “YOU NOSY MAN, KEEP YOUR OPINIONS TO YOURSELF.” Being the inexperienced, easily provoked-into-display-of-emotion person I am, I have never felt more confused in my life. 
There ends my recollection of this occurrence. Having read this long, rambling and seemingly pointless account, you may be frustrated at the lack of a storyline.

So am I, I tell you, so am I.  


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