I can’t hold it for very long. I get very obsessed with the duration of it. I count in my head whether it’s been too long and I always break it first. I don’t know what’s normal nor what is expected of me other than that I’m supposed to meet eyes when we converse and somehow keep them in that vicinity because it’s polite and strong. I’m told that it’s cowardly and rude to break the contact because it means I’m not giving you my time and that I’m splitting my attention with you and my alternate line of vision.
But you should know the mental havoc that it wreaks on me. I’m focused on absolutely nothing but you, my attention and all the cogs within me are riveted on the conversation and the duration of the eyes. Every fiber of my being becomes tensed upon the flickering of lids and the angle of the gaze. I try to fathom exactly how to keep it polite because that’s what ladies do, isn’t it?
I’m not entirely sure where my eyes are meant to go. If they wander, it only means that I’m trying far too hard not to seem so engrossed in you and give you the wrong impression. But even so, the wandering muddles everything unless you truly know me. I can’t hold the eyes. Our eyes hold a separate conversation apart from the words we exchange and the language that our bodies convey. It is in this third way that I falter the most because I can’t control it and I let it break me.
Ah, college applications, we meet again. Remind me again why these never got done?
Eh. I’ll be alright.