Magazine, website & books written by teens since 1989

Spouse to be But in My Head This work is considered exceptional by our editorial staff.

Sitting down at a computer, I spot someone who is sitting down with a book to read. The moment I see them, it’s like I see nothing but them. Everything else just… disappears.
In the room is this perfect person and myself. The first thing I can think about is trying to figure out what the magnificent person is doing in the room. Then I see the book of short stories that they have sat down to read. Something much like what I like to write.
Turning back to my computer, I think about whether or not I should talk to them. If I did, what would they say? Would they like me? Would they call me a freak and tell me to leave them alone? I hope not, but I can’t be sure seeing as I’m not a mind reader.
Taking a deep breath, I begin typing my work on the computer. That only lasts for a paragraph or two or three before I turn to catch another glimpse of the person as they turn the page in their book. Sighing, I turn to continue my work. It is impossible though. The wonderfully perfect person continues to invade every space in my head. It is like they are my everything even though I do not know their name.
Leaning back in the wooden chair, I look at the time on the computer. Fifteen minutes have past and I have a little less than five paragraphs down on a page where I am to write four pages worth of words. And unless I pay for another hour, which I refuse to, I have forty five minutes to finish. But I can’t stop thinking about the person that was sitting only a few feet behind me.
My forehead begins to feel clammy, matching the sensation that covered my palms and seemingly everywhere else on my body. My poor heart races faster and faster the more I think about the lovely person that is sitting behind me. I fear that at some point it will either give out or explode from it being worked so hard. And don’t even get me started on the weak feeling that filled my knees even though I am sitting in a chair. It is really pathetic.
Nothing gets better even though time is passing. Everything is, in fact, getting worse. It’s like the flu. It starts off as nothing, but then gets worse and worse. And that is what I am going through. Kind of… in a way. Not really at all, but it’s the same idea. Except what I am going through are surely the signs of being in love at first sight.
But is that possible? Can one fall in love with someone who is perfect in one’s eyes when they first lay their eyes on them or is it lust? The arguments for either side begin rattling around in my brain as I turn just enough to see the stunning human out of the corner of said eye. That stops all arguments in my head. Love at first sight is possible because that is what is going on at the moment.
I know that one day I will want to marry this person, that day being today actually. Not that it will happen, but the scenario plays out in my head over and over. It goes something like this.
Me: “Hey, I was sitting over there and saw you. Do you want to go get married at a drive through possibly, or in a chapel? Your choice completely.”
They then respond yes, and that’s that. We are off to go get married. That’s the dream anyway. If that actually happened, I might be worried though. While it is the ideal situation in my head, it is not actually entirely possible that it will proceed that way. After all, I can’t even get the courage to stand up and take the fifteen steps to go walk over to even say “Hello,” let alone, “Do you want to get married?”
Glancing back at the computer, thirty minutes have passed and I am on page two and at roughly 12 paragraphs. That’s crazy, being as I have twenty nine minutes left to finish my work. Something tells me that I might finish, but it is quickly shoved away by the thought of the impeccable person laughing and joking with me when we are old. How lovely that would be, but how unlikely considering the thought of talking to them makes me feel physically ill. Maybe it is the flu.
Tipping my chair backwards, I narrowly avoid falling completely. That would be a sight to see. Me on my back with everyone around me laughing, including the person making it impossible to work. Maybe if I just go and talk to them…
Standing up, I turn to walk towards them. I make it three steps before I turn on my heels and go back to the computer. Thankfully they hadn’t seen me do that or else I would be forced to go interact with them. Maybe that would have been better though because then I would be talking to them. It would push all the awkwardness of talking to someone new out of the way and fill it with the awkwardness of having someone approach you then not. What had happened is for the best, I decide.
My foot and knee take on a mind of their own as they begin bouncing under the desk that I am renting for the hour. Well, twenty two minutes that I have left. At ten bucks an hour, I am much more opened to trying to steal Wi-Fi from my neighbors until mine is fixed. Alas, that isn’t a possibility considering neither one has it since they are around the age of ancient and didn’t believe in technology. Apparently the Devil himself had devised it as a way to suck young souls into worshipping him while using it. I know this because they yell across yard to each other so that the entire street can hear.
To be fair though, it is probably the closest thing to the truth that this generation has. With the way everyone spends all the time they can on the internet, it seems more like a curse than a blessing. But then again, what is my job? I write things for a living. Without the internet I would be set to having to research things using books. Not that it is bad or anything, but I’m more of a right here right now type of person in case you can’t tell.
Except when it comes to the blemish-less person sitting directly behind me. They are the exception (unless they want to go through with the fantasy of marrying them in a drive through). Maybe it’s better that I don’t talk to them. If I do, then I could screw something up. Then I will be too embarrassed to approach someone so attractive ever again. From there I will grow old with a million cats only to be question by animal rights activist monthly about the care of said cats. When I pass, everything I have will go to those cats. I hope that they are kept together and go to a home together after I’m dead. I’m sure they will be heartbroken if they don’t.
However, if I go and talk to the love of my life, I will be able to say the statement out loud and not in my head. That’s good, right? Being able to show my affection to the person I wished to spend the rest of my life with and not having to only be able to show my affection to cats. It’s the more social approach, anyway.
Fourteen minutes left says the clock on the computer. Fourteen minutes to write an entire page to accompany the nineteen paragraphs that are currently sitting in front of me. Somehow that seems a little less than possible seeing as it has taken me forty six minutes to write said nineteen paragraphs that came out to roughly three and a half pages. Without any hesitation, I set to work writing.
Then I stop. My love has crept into my thoughts again, and I am fed up with the way things are going. At the pace I am going, things would not work out. Not with my lovely spouse-to-be-in-my-head continuing to interrupt my work without even having to be there in person. If I write with them on my mind, then my work will be all about them. My boss doesn’t want to read that, but I would. I would read it over and over again just to relive seeing them over and over again seeing as it was happening in my head that way.
With a burst of thought, I wrote everything from my head straight down and into the computer. The perfect person is sitting behind me, roughly fifteen steps away. They are reading a book of short stories, sitting alone.
They have smiled, looked upset, and taken on every other emotion that the book had provided for them to feel. Each face they make is perfectly perfect. Sculpted with perfection from God above, I could sit and watch them all day.
The book is running out of pages, and I am running out of time to work. There is three minutes left according to the clock on my computer. Three minutes to write half a page of words that flowed seamlessly like the changing expressions on my love’s face. Three minutes to write down however many paragraphs that will hold those words that are going to be the life of me, and the end of my relationship with a million cats and my annoyance with animal rights activist who will question how I treat all my cats and how they fit into the tiny home that I will live in since I have no one else.
Two minutes to put all the thoughts down from my head and into the computer to a file that I will save and email to myself even though I will not be able to get it with my nonexistent Wi-Fi. Two minutes to frantically work my fingers to the point they will either be buffer than any other part of my body or fly off. Two minutes to push the perfectly perfect person out of my head and put my thoughts down in the computer.
One minute to have the stunningly lovely human fill my head despite the screams of protest in my mind. Forty-five seconds to hit save and use the internet to send it to myself. Thirty seconds to worry myself crazy while thinking about whether or not to speak to the human that is clearly the finest in existence. Fifteen seconds to finally be done with the work that needed to be done.
One second to gather up all the courage I can to get up and begin walking towards the human sitting and absorbed into the book that you are reading.
You look up at me, a small smile on your face as I approach you with a new found confidence that I could both marry you and have everything from the cats to the internet. The new found confidence to say hello. The new found confidence to do something that I have never done before and to say it to you and only you.
Taking a deep breath, I smile as I looked down at you.
“Hi, I was wondering if you want to go get a cup coffee.”

Join the Discussion

This article has 2 comments. Post your own now!

LillyZ83This teenager is a 'regular' and has contributed a lot of work, comments and/or forum posts, and has received many votes and high ratings over a long period of time. said...
Jul. 18, 2014 at 10:39 am
I love this! It's such an amazing story line! I couldn't stop reading it! Adding it to my favorites! Keep up the good work!
Christmassbaby replied...
Jul. 18, 2014 at 6:00 pm
Thank you so much!
Site Feedback