e writings of a deranged madm

an: the only thing keeping my muscles from not exploding off of my skeleton right this very second is the same force etching thoughts on the inside of my skull and she's quickly becoming the only thing I can think about -- as if that hasn't been true for years now -- and while I was certain we liked each other oh-so-many weeks ago I'm really unsure of it now seeing as there's so much temporal and geographic distance separating us (and despite the current date we're questionable at best at reaching out to people over telecommunication) but the ultimate, unanswerable question about her and I is the same one I've been seeking to answer since that blazing september day when we first met in freshman year; a date I'm sure she's forgotten all about but in the interlude of so many -- or so few? -- years but I remember simply because every last detail has become important as I imagine and fantasize and plan and we get closer and closer to that (probably [fateful?]) evening where we're flirting (infrequent as it is) as we have for the past, oh, four months, and I work up the courage to ask her "say, we should get dinner and drinks sometime", but until that moment comes and goes into whatever resolution schrodinger or god has for us I am left to ponder, imagine, wonder, brood, process, fantasize, fear, (maybe) love, (maybe) hate, analyze and simulate WHAT WILL