Almost Perfect: A Frenemies to Lovers Romance

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Almost Perfect: A Frenemies to Lovers Romance Page 11

by Claudia Burgoa


  Embrace it, go through every step, and then grow from it.

  The pup is fun, his name is Bruno. We bonded while I was visiting a friend who happened to have a litter of puppies. This is something I planned before Draco came into my life. I can’t wait for you to meet him.

  Alex

  P.S. Have you called your parents?

  Twenty-One

  Learning to Let Go

  By Hannah Bell

  Learning to let go is not easy, no matter what it is you need to let go of. It’s harder when you have to forgive yourself or forgive others after a relationship has come to an end. When someone dies, it’s hard to move on.

  I suffered a loss, and I’ve been carrying the burden of two failed relationships.

  For ten years, I’ve been using tons of unhealthy coping mechanisms to survive. Avoidance, denial, habits that should be cut out of my life. A reliance on cabernet and sometimes tequila to get through the day or night because I can control them.

  When someone dies, that’s it. You can’t change the story. Whatever you lived through with them is never going to change. In both instances, I hate the old version of myself. I judge who I was, how I acted, and how vulnerable and weak they made me feel.

  Locked into what I could’ve done instead of living and becoming what I would like to be, I’ve been frozen in time, pretending everything is alright. When everything is broken, I’ve just lived in denial.

  I’ve finally accepted that I’m broken. Holding onto the pieces, faking that I’m fine has been exhausting.

  For the first time, I did something for me. I stepped back from everything and everyone, and I’m taking care of myself.

  This hiatus just started. Self-care is more than applying a face mask, taking a restorative yoga class, or applying jojoba oil on my hair. It goes deep down to your soul and should reach all the places you exist. Letting go is self-care. Forgiving and forgetting will help me move on and finally free myself from the past. The pain I feel as I relive my past and let go is jarring, but knowing there’s a rainbow full of possibilities on the other side keeps me going.

  Are you ready to let go of your pain?

  Until Next Time

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Dear Unicorn,

  Bruno is already home (picture attached). With the help of a trainer, I’ve been able to introduce Draco to his new friend, and so far, they’re getting along.

  Your cat likes dogs. By the way, he isn’t escaping anymore. Our next goal is to have him walk with a leash.

  Now I need to ask, am I your rebound guy?

  Two failed relationships?

  I deserve more than just the article. We’re talking about us and our future together. Do you know that according to Google, only one in every twenty rebound relationships survives?

  We’re doomed.

  Also, I want to learn more about you. You know about my shitty relationships. Since I read your article, I’ve been wondering about yours. How did they start and end?

  I’ve been thinking about the women I dated. Why they never worked. June’s theory is that I kept them at arm’s length. Let me tell you, I thought I was all in. As I analyzed my past relationships, I discovered that I was swept away by the moment. Each one of them came at a time when I thought I was ready for love.

  I wasn’t. Not even with Samantha. I gave them what they wanted when they wanted it, up until the moment when they asked for something more serious, like marriage.

  Marriage is a lifetime commitment. Not a pair of skis you buy for the season.

  When I think of it, I think of my parents’ relationship. My grandparents’. Seeing my brothers and sisters with their significant others makes me believe everyone has a soulmate.

  Will I ever find mine?

  I hope that someday it might happen to me. If Google is right, maybe I missed my chance, and well, how fucked up is that?

  In the meantime, I’m following your advice and letting things go.

  Until next time,

  Alex

  P.S. Feel free to send pictures—or send me your phone number.

  Alex,

  What a coincidence, I was named after Dad’s sister. She died when she was young—suicide.

  There’s a dog in my apartment!

  He’s cute. I can’t believe you’re training Draco. I was about to ask if you wanted Tess to get him. I don’t want to impose. June said you bought her place.

  Why would you do that to me?

  Don’t believe everything you read on the internet. I’m sure those statistics are wrong. No one likes to accept they had a rebound relationship—or that they’re the rebound.

  A rebound relationship requires a relationship. We’re not in one. Never been, never will be.

  Only one of those relationships I mentioned in the article was romantic, the other is my mother. Both relationships were toxic. I didn’t mention the part where Davis was also a loss.

  Not sure if you want to hear either one of those stories. Let’s hope that’s a no.

  June always said you had a type. Well, not only you, but her other three brothers. Your type is detached, only interested in your position, not wanting to deal with messy feelings. The outside always changed, and you’re not picky as long as they’re attractive. That’s at least until Jack and Jason found their wives.

  You need someone with substance if you’re planning to marry.

  Marriage isn’t something I’ve considered myself. Not after Davis Jones. You might know him as Davis Fredrick. When I met him, I fell in love with him hard. So hard I didn’t see the ground until I hit it and almost died.

  He was an older guy; I was too young to think of anything else but him.

  You can’t blame young Hannah for being stupidly in love.

  Davis Fredrick, the guy I had a crush on since I was twelve, liked me. He wanted me. At seventeen, I let myself get tangled up in a torrid affair. It became a big scandal. I bet if you google it, you’ll know what I’m talking about. I was seventeen, he was twenty-eight.

  You can also read the rest of our magical relationship and how it ended in tragedy. My celebrity status pushed Davis’s career to where he ambitioned to rise. The former child actor came back as a hot commodity. All he cared about during the two years we were together was how far he could go with my help.

  While we were together, I didn’t realize how he was treating me or using me.

  My mother took this nugget of gold and exploited it. She had always used me to make money. Once Davis came into the picture, she used her old contacts and tricks to sell stories. They damaged my emotional state in such a way that I ended up in rehab.

  It wasn’t drugs or alcohol—as some websites presume—but depression and anxiety.

  There you have it, my side of the story, the rest is documented by tabloids, magazines, and even the entertainment channel.

  I don’t care if I ever get married, I care about finding my forever person. My happily ever after. He’ll be the guy who’ll stay with me forever, no matter the circumstances.

  Thank you for taking care of Draco.

  Hannah

  P.S. Did your sister ever tell you I match people as a hobby? I can find you a wife.

  Twenty-Three

  True Love: Your Forever Person

  By Hannah Bell

  Is happily ever after even a thing?

  During my childhood, I lived through my parents’ hate. Their divorce was anything but amicable. When I was five, my father finally got joint custody of my sibling and me. Needless to say, when they saw each other, they always fought.

  Thankfully, my father found an incredible woman. That’s when I realized love exists. It’s not just a fantasy you read about in romance novels or watch in movies. Their love was almost as magical as a romantic comedy, but the drama didn’t stay too far behind.

  When I think of happily ever after, I think of them. Mom (that’s what I call my stepmom) is Dad’s person.

  But see, I think there are many peo
ple who spend their whole lives searching for that kind of love. I was just chatting with a friend about it. He said something that pulled my attention, “I believe everyone has a soulmate. Will I ever find it? If Google is right, maybe I missed my chance.”

  That right there makes me think that people are too busy searching for the perfect partner, the perfect love, that they have a hard time enjoying who they are or settling down with who could be their person.

  They always wonder if there’s something better out there for them.

  I want my happily ever after, but I’m not actively looking for my person.

  How will I know when I find him? He’ll be the one who won’t leave, no matter what. He’ll stay to love me for who I am.

  We will be patient with one another. We will focus on each other’s needs, and most of all, we will forgive each other, because even when you try not to hurt those you love, it’s bound to happen. We’re not perfect. We’re human.

  My person won’t be perfect. He’ll be full of flaws, and I’m sure that’s what I’ll love the most about him. We won’t have a smooth life, but we’ll be each other’s rock when things get hard. We won’t give up on our relationship or on us.

  Maybe happily ever after isn’t something that comes to you easily. Maybe forever is a choice you make. The choice of loving someone so deeply, you trust them with your life and become one heart.

  As I finished writing this article, I came to realize that loving myself is my priority.

  Until Next Time

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Hannah,

  Sorry about your aunt. I lost a friend to suicide. It’s hard to grieve because you feel like you could’ve done something. In my case, I was angry at his parents and doctors. He got hurt during practice, and the doctors hooked him with opioids.

  He never recovered from the injury. His life revolved around pain killers. That’s why I avoided them after my accident. Once you’re hooked on that shit, it is hard to get out, so I ride the wave of pain when it comes. I do as much holistic stuff as I can to help me with it.

  I like to live and find new challenges. Drugs stop you from doing what you love.

  Glad to know I’m not your rebound guy.

  It’d be difficult to pursue something serious with you if we had already fucked it up. When you’re ready and open to the possibilities, I’ll be here. Don’t find me a wife. June complained about her blind dates. Do you have any successful matches? Only asking for reference, I don’t want your services.

  Now, let’s pause.

  Did you seriously quote me in your magazine?

  I’m not sure if I like that you wrote an entire article based on my letter or insulted because I feel like you’re mocking me. Either way, I’m following June’s advice and getting myself some friends. According to you two, I might increase my chances of finding my happily ever after with one of them.

  (Would you like to be my forever person?)

  Let’s focus on you. If Davis were alive, I’d be taking care of the asshole. So, I take it the woman who died with him was his side dish?

  If I could, I’d bring you cookies and candy to ride the wave of pain.

  Alex

  P.S. Draco and Bruno already bonded, let’s just keep him at home.

  P.S. 2 Tess and her family are cool. They came by the other day. I feel like your family knows a lot more about me than you let me think. Are we going steady?

  Alex,

  The woman who died with him…we don’t talk about her. It’s like fight club. Let’s keep it that way, okay?

  Alicia spun the news in so many ways. I’m sure she made a ton of money out of his death. She gave interviews and told everyone how pathetic I was. She confirmed my obsession with Davis. She swore the woman who died was his fiancée. You’d be surprised how much trash the tabloids buy just to sell their magazines or online ads.

  We stopped her as many times as we could, but she wouldn’t stop. After rehab, I moved to California. My sister was living in San Diego at the time. It seemed like a good place to reinvent myself.

  I became obsessed with school and graduated early from college.

  None of my matches worked, so maybe you’re better off without my help.

  We’re not going steady, and no, I wasn’t mocking you. Your letter talked to me—it’s a read-between-the lines analogy. You might not have written that, but that’s what I took out of it. I liked it because it was the first time I felt like maybe I could fall in love again. Before, I was closed to it.

  Thank you for taking care of Draco and everything you’ve done for us.

  Hannah

  P.S. Are you still in pain? Can you tell me more about the accident?

  P.S. 2 What do you mean you met my sister and her family?

  P.S. 3 Sadie sends me fresh cookies.

  Hannah,

  Have I told you I’m the closest one to Dad? We’re good friends and talk about many things. The other day, after we spoke, I realized something. Love isn’t what everyone expects.

  The thing about love…

  Not every relationship lasts forever. Not every love is meant to be the one. Some love lasts a month, others a couple of years. Every relationship you have will stay with you in one way or another. They’ll remain in your heart, as lessons and as experiences.

  First loves can wound you so deep you might think your heart won’t be able to function again. However, don’t write love off. I’m not sure how my last letter made you see that, but I’m glad you’re not closed off.

  You seem like a person who likes to stand up after falling hard. Apply it to your romantic life as well. The next guy might know how to care for a sweet, quirky woman like you.

  I had no idea we could send you food. Glad to know you’re not incommunicado. It’s just your stubbornness, not giving a shit that my hand is cramping because I’m writing you letters. (Don’t misunderstand, I’m enjoying it.)

  Your sister was here a couple of weekends ago. She told me you TALK to her weekly—phone conversations. TEXT almost daily. You never told me your brother-in-law is Gage Rodin. He’s cool, and their kids are pretty awesome. They were in town for a music festival, and they came to check on Draco.

  (I’m pretty sure they came to check on me.)

  My accident was a shitshow. That night was supposed to be the best night of my life. I was on my way to pick up Samantha. As usual, San Francisco was foggy as fuck and…I remember everything happening in slow motion. I remember slamming on the brakes when I saw not one, but two pairs of headlights coming at me. The seat belt pulled me so hard, it felt like a steel band tightening against my chest.

  I remember the sound of metal crashing against metal. The car scraping the pavement as it rolled several times.

  The one thing I remember the most was knowing my life would never be the same again. There was no light, but my entire life played out before my eyes. That’s when I realized something was missing in my life.

  Have you ever stopped to think if your life is what you wanted?

  I knew everything I had was over. My future slipped away within seconds. When I woke up from the surgery, I was angry and terrified. My career was over. I had worked my entire life to be Alexander Spearman, and suddenly, I was the guy who might be in a wheelchair—paraplegic—for the rest of his life.

  I have more screws and bolts in my body than a hardware store. They fixed me the best way they could. Still, there’s pain. The intensity depends on the weather, and yes, humidity is a factor. There are a bunch of movements I can’t do as easily as a person with less metal than me. You win some battles, but the scars remain, and the pain is there.

  Pain is good, though. It reminds me that I can feel, and I can walk. Sometimes, pain reminds you that you’re still alive.

  Why did the band break up? I liked Sinners of Seattle as much as I like Killing Hades.

  Talk to you soon,

  Alex

  P.S. Did I tell you I didn’t fanboy on your dad when I met him? My
brothers and my parents envy me because I know Kaden Hades.

  Twenty-Five

  Healing Is A Process

  By Hannah Bell

  “Pain reminds you that you’re still alive.” A. Spearman

  We try to avoid pain the same way we try to avoid Mondays. Although it’s impossible to dodge, either—even when you try hard.

  I’ve been trapped in denial and anger for years. I haven’t acknowledged my feelings. Rehab only helped me control my anxiety and my depression. Still, after I left, I didn’t continue to heal. Instead of finding a therapist, I lived in denial, pretending everything was alright.

  Avoiding the places that reminded me of the people I lost and the pain they inflicted, because not feeling was the best medicine.

  Wrong.

  This journey has been illuminating and fulfilling, and I’m not even halfway through it. Right now, I wish someone could be here to wrap their arms around me and make me feel safe.

  It was a mature step to do this on my own, but I wish Mom and Dad were close enough, just in case I needed them. I wish someone was here just to reassure me that I’ll get through this.

  All I have is a purple sweatshirt with a snowboarding unicorn to remind me that I have a friend thinking of me. Rooting for me.

  What’s keeping me going is what I’m learning about myself: knowing that, soon, everything will be bright again.

  I’m not feeling one hundred percent well, yet. Little by little, things are shifting inside me. I’m holding onto this hope. I’m working hard, writing everything I am living, and learning. Maybe I lost something important to me, but I know that there’s a lot more I can do to make this place a better world.

 

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