#peachsakura

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I am once again looking for something I never lost. Checking over and over again, I can’t shake the feeling of forgetting. Counting out all of the things I have in my bag. 10. An even number.That’s all of them. Notebook. Check. Pencil case. Check. Phone check. Wallet check.Book check. DS check. Lip gloss check. Sketchbook check. Earphones check. Keys check. Now my wallet.38 dollars no coins . License. Student ID. Credit card. Number of keys 4. Front door. Back door. Child hood. Safe. Extras, pepper spray. Star Wars Lego keychain of C3po given to me as a gift… Everyone says I’m like him. I’m ready. Counting everything again one.two.three.four.five.six.seven.eight.nine.ten. Angry glares are burning through my skin, I made everyone late again. 10 minutes late. I only work in even numbers. Why. Driving to the restaurant. Long. Anxiety increasing steadily, as the impending doom of being at a birthday party looms over me. Counting. No gift to worry about luckily. One two three four five six. Someone is talking to me. I don’t understand. I nod quickly in agreement. Seven eight nine ten. Eyes glued to the winding road. I’m sure I forgot something, continuing my counting hoping to shake of the feeling.eleven twelve.My Heart begins to race, what a familiar feeling. thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen. 4 miles left. The chattering of the other two Homo sapiens, filling the silence. They want me to talk. We made it, I’m saved. My organs are fluttering in the cold winter wind. We leave the car. I panic. Why. My bag is here. I start counting my things again. One . Two. Three. Four. Five. My hands rustling and feeling each and every item. My brain’s blacking out everything that exists around me. Darkness.I start to fall forward. My brain snatched back into reality, by a friends warm hand hugging my arm. Skipping behind them, smiling. My smile.It’s wavering I can feel it. Opening the doors with an animated flourish, we march in asking for our reservation. I mouth the words with my friend, as I run a quick scan of the place. Spotting a few hands waving enthusiastically my way. I look back, I see a heavily made up waitress pointing towards them. Twenty. Twenty one. What am I forgetting? It’s something important. But what? It’s as if I have been forgetting it for years. I have everything. Stop. Twenty two. A pair of arms wrap around me, their warmth seeping into my body, I didn’t realize I was cold. I was bombarded with an unpleasant 13 questions of how are you? And all got the same reply a polite nod and fine? How about you? I didn’t care much for the answers they all reminded me of that thing I’m forgetting. Thirty six. Thirty seven. Thirty eight. Smiling is tiring. Through all the chatter, I heard a lone statement. A statement aimed at me a statement that stabbed me in multiple places. You’ve changed so much,Twenty seven. Wait that’s wrong. I found it. I found the thing I was forgetting, it was me.