Guide Me

I try to study, but my mind rebels, using any thought to distract me. In an instant, it fills with his presence. I visualize his hands, his chest, feel an imaginary connection that makes me lose focus. I shake my head, struggling to regain concentration, but it’s like trying to grasp sand. I read a sentence; it barely resonates before fading into the void. My mind, however, lingers on the memory of his smile, his scent, his hair, expanding the initial thought until it becomes something tangible. In my imagination, I feel the brush of his skin and the warmth of a first kiss as my arms wrap around his neck.

Again, I make an effort to return to the text in front of me, but each word seems to crumble amidst the duality of duty and desire. I scold myself and smile, trying to continue, though the minutes pass without mercy. My lips tighten, and my mind finds the refuge it craves in those thoughts. Then, at that very moment, his message arrives like a spark that rekindles the inner struggle.

– Hi, I just arrived, how are you?

A mix of emotions overtakes me. I know I should be focused, but it’s enough to read it to give in to that moment.

– Well, here I am, I can’t concentrate…

– Breathe, close your eyes.

With that brief instruction, I feel a peace that anchors me, a calm that, at times, seems enough to regain focus. But then, his last message appears, and with a quiet whisper, I let myself be carried away once again.

– Just guide me…

In that silent truce, in the constant struggle between what I must do and what I want to feel, I lose myself and find myself again, as if the very act of studying dissolves in the softness of his imaginary voice.