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OCD

by Neil Hilborn

The first time I saw her... Everything in my head went quiet. All the tics, all the constantly refreshing images just disappeared. When you have Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, you dont really get quiet moments. Even in bed, Im thinking: Did I lock the doors? Yes. Did I wash my hands? Yes. Did I lock the doors? Yes. Did I wash my hands? Yes. But when I saw her, the only thing I could think about was the hairpin curve of her lips.. Or the eyelash on her cheek... the eyelash on her cheek... the eyelash on her cheek. I knew I had to talk to her. I asked her out six times in thirty seconds. She said yes after the third one, but none of them felt right, so I had to keep going. On our first date, I spent more time organizing my meal by color than I did eating it, or fucking talking to her... But she loved it. She loved that I had to kiss her goodbye sixteen times or twenty-four times or if it was Wednesday. She loved that it took me forever to walk home because there are lots of cracks on our sidewalk. When we moved in together, she said she felt safe, like no one would ever rob us because I definitely locked the door eighteen times. Id always watch her mouth when she talked... when she talked... when she talked... when she talked when she talked; when she said she loved me, her mouth would curl up at the edges. At night, shed lay in bed and watch me turn all the lights off.. And on, and off, and on, and off, and on, and off, and on, and off, and on, and off, and on, and off, and on, and off, and on, and off, and on, and off, and on, and off, and on, and off. Shed close her eyes and imagine that the days and nights were passing in front of her. Some mornings Id start kissing her goodbye but shed just leave cause I was just making her late for work... When I stopped in front of a crack in the sidewalk, she just kept walking... When she said she loved me her mouth was a straight line. She told me that I was taking up too much of her time. Last week she started sleeping at her mothers place. She told me that she shouldnt have let me get so attached to her; that this whole thing was a mistake, but... How can it be a mistake that I dont have to wash my hands after I touched her? Love is not a mistake, and its killing me that she can run away from this and I just cant. I cant - I cant go out and find someone new because I always think of her. Usually, when I obsess over things, I see germs sneaking into my skin. I see myself crushed by an endless succession of cars... And she was the first beautiful thing I ever got stuck on. I want to wake up every morning thinking about the way she holds her steering wheel.. How she turns shower knobs like shes opening a safe. How she blows out candles... blows out candles...
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blows out candles... blows out candles... blows out candles... blows out... Now, I just think about who else is kissing her. I cant breathe because he only kisses her once - he doesnt care if its perfect! I want her back so bad... I leave the door unlocked. I leave the lights on.

In Romanian:

SOC (Sindrom obsesiv-compulsiv)


de Neil Hilborn traducere de Miqhael-M. Khesapeake

This translation is dedicated to a very special person, and she is Diana-L. Vila Miqhael-M. Khesapeake
ntia dat ce-o vzui... Totun capul meu se liniti. Toate ticurile, toate acele imagini de remprosptare dispruser. Cci cnd ai sindromul obsesiv-compulsiv niciodat nu eti cu adevrat linitit. Chiar i n pat, m tot gndesc: Uile, le-am ncuiat? Da. Pe mini, m-am splat? Da. Uile, le-am ncuiat? Da. Pe mini, m-am splat? Da. Dar cnd am vzut-o, lucrul care-mi dduse de gndit nencetat era arcuirea ca un U a buzelor ei... Sau geana de pe obrazul ei... Geana de pe obrazul ei... tiam c trebuie s-i vorbesc. Am invitat-o n ora s ias cu mine de ase ori n treizeci de secunde. A zis da dup a treia oar, dar nici una nu-mi prea potrivit, aa c trebuia s continui. La prima noastr ntlnire am petrecut mai mult vreme aranjndu-mi felurile de mncare pe culori dect mncnd ceva, sau, un drac, mcar vorbindu-i... ns i plcuse chestia asta. i plcuse i c a trebuit s o bzi srutnd-o de noapte bun de aipe sau doupatru de ori, sau dac era miercuri. i plcuse i c mi luse o venicie s m ntorc acas pe jos, din cauz c erau o grmad de crpturi pe trotoar. Cnd ne-am mutat mpreun, mi spunea c se simte n siguran, cci parc niciodat n-o s ne prdeze hoii fiindc eu ncui ua efectiv de vreo optipe ori. ntotdeauna m uitam la buzele ei cnd vorbea... cnd vorbea... cnd vorbea... cnd vorbea...

cnd vorbea; Cnd mi zicea c m iubete gura i se curba pe la coluri. Noaptea, se bga n pat i m privea cum sting toate luminile... ba aprindeam, ba stingeam, ba aprindeam, ba stingeam, ba le aprindeam, ba stingeam, ba le aprindeam, ba le stingeam, ba le aprindeam, ba le stingeam, ba le aprindeam, ba le stingeam, ba le aprindeam, ba le stingeam, ba le aprindeam, ba le stingeam, ba le aprindeam, ba le stingeam, ba le aprindeam, ba stingeam, ba aprindeam, ba stingeam. i nchidea ochii i-i imagina cum vor trece prin faa ei zilele i nopile. n unele diminei vroiam s-o srut de 'la revedere,' ns ea pur i simplu pleca, fiindc o fceam s ntrzie la serviciu... Cnd m-am oprit n faa unei crpturi din trotoar, ea pur i simplu i continu drumul... Cnd mi spunea c m iubete, gura ei nu era dect o linie dreapt. i-mi spunea c vorbeam mult prea mult pentru timpul pe care-l are ea. De sptmna trecut a nceput s doarm la maic-sa. i mi-a zis c n-ar fi trebuit s m lase s m ataez att de mult de ea; c toat treaba asta a fost o greeal dar... Cum poate s fie o greeal, de vreme ce nu mai trebuie s m spl pe mini cnd o ating? Iubirea nu e o greeal, i m ucide faptul c ea poate s fug de asta, iar eu pur i simplu nu pot! Nu pot! nu pot s ies n ora i s-mi caut pe alta nou, fiindc la ea m gndesc nencetat. De regul, cnd am o obsesie pentru chestii, vd microbii cum mi se strecoar prin piele. M vd clcat de o mulime nentrerupt de maini... i ea fusese primul lucru frumos de care am putut avea parte vreodat. Vreau s m scol n fiecare zi gndindu-m la felul cum ine volanul... Cum umbl la robinet, c e n siguran. Cum stinge lumnrile... Stinge lumnrile... Stinge lumnrile... Stinge lumnrile... Stinge lumnrile... Stinge... Acum, m gndesc doar la cine oare o srut. i rmn cu rsuflarea tiat, fiinc acela o srut doar odat i nu-i pas s fie cu totul perfect! Att de tare o vreau napoi... i las ua descuiat... i las luminile aprinse...