lavenderlilylies
Student
- Sep 24, 2024
- 162
A couple of years back, I was in a random class during a final assessment, I had finished mine and was sitting with a group there to pass time. The assessing teacher, who I had casually stalked online before, as I do with almost everyone I've ever met, was scooting between students in a revolving chair because of her broken leg.
When she approached the group for a student's work that was displayed behind us, I moved away to a different spot in the tight room. I don't remember if I was on my phone or lost in thought when her voice brought me back to earth. "should we start with you?" She asked, so I quickly clarified that I'm not part of this class.
I wanted to move out of the way just as quick, I'm not sure if I tend to move slower than I think I do, I was about to get up, but I froze staring down at her hand when she placed it on my thigh and gripped it, for support to scoot over, I assume.
It might've been a split second or an embarrassingly long time that I sat still, staring at that hand, I think she eventually told me to move as she let go. When i turned to walk away she asked "———, right?" I said yes. The pressure of her grip still on my thigh I could feel every finger.
For anyone else, this would've been a passing moment where someone held onto them for support. Not me, I'm the obsessive type. I think about that more than I'd like to admit, about her more than I'd like to admit. All the parasocial relationships I harbor are a great deal of shame to me. I don't want anything in particular, just to have a window looking over peoples minds, to see myself within their context. And sometimes, to plant myself there.
When she approached the group for a student's work that was displayed behind us, I moved away to a different spot in the tight room. I don't remember if I was on my phone or lost in thought when her voice brought me back to earth. "should we start with you?" She asked, so I quickly clarified that I'm not part of this class.
I wanted to move out of the way just as quick, I'm not sure if I tend to move slower than I think I do, I was about to get up, but I froze staring down at her hand when she placed it on my thigh and gripped it, for support to scoot over, I assume.
It might've been a split second or an embarrassingly long time that I sat still, staring at that hand, I think she eventually told me to move as she let go. When i turned to walk away she asked "———, right?" I said yes. The pressure of her grip still on my thigh I could feel every finger.
For anyone else, this would've been a passing moment where someone held onto them for support. Not me, I'm the obsessive type. I think about that more than I'd like to admit, about her more than I'd like to admit. All the parasocial relationships I harbor are a great deal of shame to me. I don't want anything in particular, just to have a window looking over peoples minds, to see myself within their context. And sometimes, to plant myself there.
