I Can't Stop Thinking
I have to be the world's biggest Overthinker.
No, really. I'm sure if we had an election for the most qualified Overthinker, I would win absolute majority.
Fortunately, this is not an occupation, nor is there an election held for it. But (there's always a but, isn't there?) considering how many hours I've clocked in, you'd think it was my full-time job.
Hopefully I'm not the only one guilty of this. If I am, I am shamelessly jealous of you. Like, seriously. Teach me your ways.
My mind has a mouth of its own. Though its voice is inaudible, the volume of its words is impossible to turn down. You'll notice I personify this voice as "the Whisperer." I wish I could pay the Whisperer to take a leave of absence...
Here's how it started:
Awhile back, one of my friends questioned the character of my (at the time) significant other. To this I said the usual:
"He's being loyal."
to which she responded, "How do you know he's being loyal? I wish I knew my bf was being loyal."
"That's the thing. I don't know. I can't know. But I trust."
"How can you trust someone who can't even see you?"
I thought I had all the answers, but no self-written narrative could have predicted THAT as her response. I didn't see that coming.
My mind started a one-woman relay race. It stopped to grab Baton #1.
Baton #1 had a voice of its own too, and began to say "He has an eye for girls. He can't resist when they feed his ego and make it easy."
After running away with Baton #1, a video played on the track's mega screen: him checking out a really attractive, flirty girl with clear skin. UGH. The clear skin. Of course. My mind kept running around the track. Eyes on the prize. What prize?
I stopped running.
There is no prize.
My feelings subsided, and I began to think rationally again. That was until Baton #2 was passed to me.
Baton #2: "He used the word "ghosted" to describe the turnout of the girl before you. In case you need a refresher, he's ghosted you all summer. You always text first. He never checks up on you. Clearly he's ghosting you."
UGH. See what I mean by inaudible volume???
Then Baton#3 piped up: "You're chasing him. He's probably chasing another girl the same way he chased you. He's probably talking to a different girl with clearer skin, better curves, and prettier hair."
At this point, I was sprinting in a hopeless attempt to get away from the noise. The noise that went with me, because it was my mind.
Seriously Mind, MIND YOUR OWN BUSINESS. I've already struggled enough with minding my own feelings!
I didn't even want to know what Baton #4 was carrying in its voicebox. So I dropped out of the race. And this is how I know I run my own mind.