Awnnn, you guys...
I was just reading a comment I got for the first story I wrote for this site and realized my writing got so much better. It's all thanks to you.
I have the best readers on this site. Really. You're all so amazing and supporting. Thank you so, so much. You really give a girl motivation to write more. Every single comment you leave me is a gem. Honestly, they make my day.
In vain, I will apologize for my delay. I've spent this last year living in Denmark (that was nuts). Somehow, I wasn't in the right frame of mind to write. Turns out your comfort zone is the only zone for writing (in my case). I read and reread my stuff and found it all to be a bunch of amateur shit and new words just wouldn't find me. Sorry. I'm back now, babes.
I'm talking too much, but can I just apologize for the typos? There's a lot of wine involved in the writing of my stories.
The world is crazy. I hope you're all okay. If any of you aren't as lucky as I, if you're locked up in your home (I am too, although living in a farm has some liberty as a perk), I hope this story can be a fun distraction.
I swear I'm squeezing my brain dry to finish these stories of mine!
Enjoy it. Be safe and healthy inside your homes.
Next chapter is on its way. In the meantime, here's a long one for you.
XOXO,
Nana.
2
THAT RESTLESSNESS
that's always been inherent to me has gotten worse.
Running isn't working today. My sneakers hit the asphalt in rhythmical steps, making soft thuds. My accelerated heartbeats fill my veins with freshly oxygenated blood. My workout playlist is on, music blaring out of my earphones. Even with that burning in my muscles warning me to stop, serotonin hasn't kicked in yet. Nothing seems to get my mind off. I can't make myself not think about
him
. He's a teasing little worm burrowing into my brain.
Julian
fucking
Song.
It's that easy for him. Two weeks ago, he sauntered into my classroom to remind me of his tempting existence. If I were more of a hypocrite, I would say this event didn't affect me at all. Except I'm very much affected. In addition to seeing him daily, when he drops his daughter at school, I have the occasional flashbacks of our times together as a regular intruder in my life. In the most inconspicuous and quiet of moments, a viral and very dirty image of the man will come, stick to my skull and won't leave however much I will it gone.
I'm driving myself insane. I never believed I'd lay my eyes on him again. I spent a mere few weekends with Julian over a year ago. I
don't
know him. And yet, he is the one man who roused in me a wild kind of attraction that has no reasonable explanation. Every other man that came after him was met with comparisons wherever they touched me. Because no one ever kissed me like Julian did. No one ever did me quite like he did. I never enjoyed being with a man as much as I did being with him.
Julian who I virtually know nothing about. Julian who can drive me out of my mind with that mouth of his. Julian who I don't dare say I don't want so as not to come off as a liar. Not when my imagination spun the touch of his hands into an almost existence, to the point where I could fool myself into thinking my smooth and small hands are his big, callused ones when I'm in my bed at night, all alone.
I slow my pace to a light jog. If I run anymore my heart will burst. The three blocks to home I walk worrying about tomorrow. The fieldtrip. I'm taking my little students to Julian's farm Monday morning. To be honest, I'm excited about this trip. Most of those city kids have never seen a pig outside the bacon form before and I'm also dying to see where the Songs live. In the weeks I've been teaching her, Hannah made dozens of drawings of their farm.
I reach home still thinking about what I went running to forget about in the first place.
"All I'm saying is we need to do something about it."
Cami's voice is the first I hear as I open the door to the loft.
"It's her life, Cam. We can't just stick our noses in her business," Lil's voice interjects.
My presence doesn't disturb my roommates as I make my way to the kitchen. Cami and Lil are perched on the couch in the eye of some heated discussion. I don't see Mel around. Her absence is not usually a surprise though. She spends most of her time with Jerky Marky, except for Sunday mornings. She's always home Sunday mornings.
"Where's Mel?" I ask.
"We can! We're her friends," Cami says, continuing the debate she's having with Lil, completely ignoring me.
"It's because we're her friends that we need to respect her," Lil says, trying to shove into Cami some of her consideration for other people's feelings. I throw her a sympathetic glance she doesn't catch. I gather Mel is this Sunday's debate theme.
"Hey!" I snap my fingers to attract the girls' attention. "Where is Melanie?"
Cami rolls her eyes at Lil before sliding them to me. "She burst out crying a few minutes ago. We don't know where she's gone, and she won't answer any of our calls."
I swig my water, leaning my hip against the kitchen sink, very unimpressed by this news. "Stupid Mark again?"
"What else?"
"Cami wants to intervene," Lil fills me in. "I say we should wait for her to come to us."
"Wow." Cami blinks her large eyes. "Genius, Liliane. Because she's so open with us about her abusive relationship."
It's the same shit all over again. Mark is a piece of shit. He mistreats Mel. Mel cries. Mark apologizes with flowers. Mel forgives him. He fucks up again. More flowers. In this vicious cycle there is never a scene in which Mel seeks our help.
Lil huffs, losing her patience with Cami. "We can't help her if she doesn't want our help!"