The Feeling Switch

Drew Packard’s finger danced over the switch. To flick it or not to flick it, that was the question. And the answer? He didn’t know. Not yet. One way or the other he would get over his feelings, he knew, but the option of waiting it out would take a lot longer. An unimaginable length of time, with no way of telling how long until the act came to pass.

In his mind’s eye Drew saw him. Towering and small all at the same time. Masculine with a soft side. Sparkling eyes and a laugh that was addictive. A personality that complimented Drew’s.

Drew craved his attention. His presence.

He felt as though he was addicted. He was constantly checking to see if he was online, or else wishing his phone would buzz with a text from… him. And Drew fought with himself on a daily basis. Don’t text him. Don’t text him, he’d tell himself over and over and eventually he’d come to believe that today would be the day, today would be the day he finally didn’t give into his feelings. Today would be the day he’d start getting over him. But then something would happen. The craving would grow too great and he’d send the text with a heart full of promise, and a soul full of despair. He felt guilty whenever he gave in. He berated himself. But the truth was that he was inexplicably in love and he didn’t know how to deal with those feelings. It wasn’t a feeling he’d had before.

And the feeling wasn’t reciprocated. It never had been, and it never would be. Drew knew that, but it didn’t stop his growing feelings.

He pushed the switch away. Stood up. Left the room. Got on with his day. Forgot him.

“Today will be the day,” he said aloud, and he genuinely believed it would be. He went all day without texting him, without even thinking about him.

But as he climbed into bed his phone buzzed. A text. From him.

You working tomorrow? If not, we’re heading into town for a few drinks if you fancy it.

Drew bolted from bed. Yes. Yes, just to see your face.

He was halfway through dressing when he thought of the feeling switch and the promise he’d made to himself. He abandoned his clothing and headed through to the living room. He sat down. His finger danced over the switch.