A proclamation of obsession

A proclamation of obsession

Leila Aboussir

Although Johannes has gone back to Germany, Anna continues to dream of him and wonder what she did wrong.

Anna Landis, Staff Writer

Oh, I had heard of this specimen before, though I had never been fortunate enough to observe it in its natural habitat. But as I was clunking from second to third hour one day, I caught a glimpse of him, as a hunter spots the antlers of a robust young buck amongst the dew-covered branches of a forest.

There stood I, mouth agape in the utter awe of this beautiful creature. And if looks were not enough, as he began to converse with other sub-species, a thickly umlauted accent escaped from his lips.

Over the next few weeks, I would catch sight of this alluring superhuman. Yet, I could hardly understand how a mere mortal could gleam like the eastern sunrise and evoke the aroma of sauerkraut and kielbasa.

I’d try to concentrate on my lessons of the classes we had together, but I could only focus on the geography that would separate us if the chemistry of a long-distance relationship existed. But while he was near me, the only thing standing in the way of our love was a brick-wall language barrier.

I made it my goal to memorize the entire German dictionary, or shall I say Wörterbuch? Unfortunately, the German language is not as simple as I had hoped, loaded with multiple infinitives, prefixes, and vocal inflections—ideas that were completely foreign to me. So I decided that it’d be much easier to communicate through song.

On the morn of September 9 (National Weiner Schnitzel Day for those who were wondering), I frolicked over to him with my heart filled with a sense of achievement and throat with phlegm, and I sang this to him: “Bist du bei mir, geh ich mit freuden zum sterben und zu meiner ruh.”**

Before I proceeded into the chorus, he staggered backwards and hastened to the other side of the room. Phlegmatically, I walked away from my failed attempt at conversation with Johannes.

For days afterwards, I had asked myself what had gone wrong, what word I had mispronounced, if I had accidentally made an obscene gesture. But, after determining that there was nothing wrong with my performance, I decided it must have been his unfamiliarity with the Baroque Era. Even though my first attempt had been blatantly rejected, I knew that someday, he’d be Bach for more.

**“You are with me. I go joyfully to death and to my rest.”