It's All Coming Back To Me

by Michelle Marra

  Laurel, I can never be just your friend. I’m in love with you, but you have made your feelings for me perfectly clear. So I think it’s best that I’m not there tomorrow or any other day. I need to figure out how to let you go, and I can’t do that with being around you.

  I’m little taken aback by her response and starting to get pissed off, so I fire back another text to her.

  So you’re just ditching me…AGAIN.

  Her response came not twenty seconds later, guess she has the talk to text feature on her phone.

  Ditching you? Are you kidding me? You’ve asked me over and over, why I’m there. Why I don’t leave you alone…why I’m involved. You have made it pretty clear that you don’t want me around. And now you do?

  I had every right to be mad at her. She had a lot of nerve throwing it back in my face.

  Sam…if you’re so in love with me. If you always have as you proclaim you have. Then where were you for those two years I was home trying to figure out how to get over you?

  Several minutes go by before the response came. I figure she finally realizes I’m right. But then I read her reply.

  I was there every step of the way. Do you remember your blog ‘Nothing True About Love’? I’m sure you do…it’s what launched you into stardom. Do you remember the name IMSRY? Well, that was me. I did everything short of spelling it out for you…wanting to reveal myself to you. But the debates we had with your posts, I was afraid because you were jaded and bitter. I understood that, but when I did get a sliver of hope from you. Something you said in the blog about love still being worth the fight. I hopped a plane, but when I got here…you were gone. Those last couple blogs you wrote were from California, and I never knew you had left. I hopped a plane right to LA, but couldn’t get near you…so I gave up came back to Camden and stayed here in hopes you would come back…but you never did.

  I’m stunned, to say the least. I’m staring at her text trying to remember that username IMSRY. I’m digging back into my memory banks about that blog, I haven’t thought about it in years. I was so bitter then, so full of pain and hate. The blogs I put out there were emotional rants, mostly in the middle of the night when I was in tears. But as I’m racking my brain, it does come back to me. “Holy shit,” I say aloud before I carefully make my way to my chair and go in search of my laptop.

  I spent the rest of the night reading and rereading those blogs. Every posted comment from ‘IMSRY’ was filled with questions about ‘what ifs.’ I always believed the person behind that pen-name was a dude, some idiot that lost his girl and wanted someone to fight with. I always assumed he wanted my advice on how to reunite with his girlfriend because he…now I know she…always prefaced it with ‘what if I blah blah blah.’

  Most of the people who responded to my blog were jaded like me. They had their heart torn out of their chests and stomped on…just like I did. I do remember the first time IMSRY posted a comment to my blog called ‘Love is a lie.’

  I wrote this only a few months after the breakup, so my pain was still raw and evident throughout the blog.

  Love is a lie…it is a fantasy to distract the heart and mind from reality. The reality being that love really doesn’t exist. It is a phantom emotion…just like there are phantom pains. And just like the ability to still feel a severed leg, love is a feeling without a residence. Since the brain is responsible for regulating emotion, it is the organ that tells us we’re in love…not the heart. The heart is just a muscle that pumps blood through our bodies. The metaphoric heart where we all think love resides is a farce. It’s just a fucking emotion brought on by the release of chemicals in the brain. It’s a state of mind and nothing more.

  Even though the blog received so many comments both in favor of and against, the one that stood out to me then was a comment from IMSRY.

  Hating love seems like a strange oxymoron.

  I was taken aback, I certainly didn’t hate love. I just didn’t believe in it anymore. Back then I was having difficulties with all types of love, even parental. I just didn’t trust it or the people that used that ‘love you’ sentiment. It all seemed hollow, just words with no meaning. But my retort to the user was just that…

  I don’t hate love, I just don’t believe in it, and I certainly don’t trust it.

  As I read on and on through the disputes we had, I can see it. I can see Sam in the words of each post. This user would fight me tooth and nail on my hardened viewpoint. Always trying to get me to see theirs. But I really was jaded then, much more than I am today. While I still don’t believe in romantic love or trust love overall. I can say that I do love my family and I believe they love me. Now, I can counsel people because I have been enlightened when it comes to love. I don’t ever steer people away from it, I just give them the cold, hard truth. The people that come on my show, who call in…that is what they’re looking for, the truth. So no one can ever accuse me of swaying anyone to my side of the argument. What they wanted, what they came for…they got. What they chose to do with it from there was their choice.

  As soon as I finish the blogs, I send a text to Sam. One I’m not sure if I should send or not. But I have to put it out there, I don’t know why…just have to.

  Sam, I just finished reading all the blog posts and the comments you made. Looking back at it now I can definitely see you. I guess I was too hurt and angry to see it back then. Now I wonder if I did…if I knew that was you, would it have made a difference. And I can honestly say I don’t know. Because then all I wanted was for you to come crawling back to me…beg my forgiveness. I would fantasize about it, dream about it…dream about you. What if in reality, you did? Would the pain, hurt, and anger I had destroy us anyway or would I have been able to forgive you and let it all go?

  Then before I left for California my feelings for you turned to hate and my fantasies of you always ended with me slapping you and walking away. I can honestly say except for writing my last novel, you haven’t taken up residence in my thoughts or my dreams in quite awhile.

  But now after reading all that, after you confessed your feelings for me and after we had that reconnection of sorts…I can certainly say it wasn’t just sex and it wasn’t closure. I think we both know that.

  I accidentally hit send before I’m finished. Which is okay because I need to take a break for a moment or two. I sit up in my bed and roughly rub my palms over my face. I can’t get the image of Sam out of my head. The depth of her eyes gazing into mine, the smile that always lights up her face…her laugh. The sweet, infectious laugh always with a snort…it was music to my ears. Her voice rattles me every time I hear it, and when she whispers in my ear…goosebumps always envelop my body.

  My eyes begin to glisten, I can’t let another tear fall. My nose was already raw from rubbing it on the hem of my tank top. I don’t want these feelings bubbling up in me again, but I have little control over it. Love has a mind of its own. That much I found out at the young age of seventeen.

  The text chime stirs my attention, I forgot there is more I want to say in the text. I look at the words accompanied by a picture she must have just taken.

  Laurel, I’m so happy to hear you say it wasn’t just sex because it was so much more for me. Please give us another chance. I won’t let you down this time. I promise never to hurt you again. I love you, I know you still love me. I can feel it when I touch you, when I kiss you. I can see it in your eyes. Please baby…please let me love you again.

  I can’t take my eyes off the picture, and she was right, I did still love her. I might have buried it deep down in the recesses of my mind when I shut down my heart like it was a computer. It was all history once I boarded that plane to California and I made myself strong again. Putting over three thousand miles and twelve states between us definitely helped. But now she was asking me to forget all the pain and hurt. To run back into her arms like nothing happened. Oh yeah, that’ll go good with my image…my show.

  Sure it would be so easy to fall. Let Sam consume me and kick
everything else aside. After all, I have plenty of money. Certainly don’t need to work. The royalties from the books alone could set me up in one of the best condos Camden, Maine has to offer. Maybe write a new book…I Found Love Again. Go back on The Viewpoint and contradict everything I initially said…everything I’ve been saying for over seven fucking years. That love is a joke…a farce. Romantic love only ever leads to pain. Yata, yata, yata. I’m sure to be called a poser and a fraud for sure.

  I’m in a conundrum, to say the least, and I have no idea what to do. But I do know one thing…there was no way I can think anymore. My head was spent, I would say my heart was as well, but that would be me admitting that I have a heart capable of those feelings again. As much as my chest ached, I want these feelings to stay dead and buried.

  “Oh God…please help me,” I say when I close my laptop. I need sleep. What I really need was a drunken sleep so I can forget the world…but what I do know is that in the few short hours I’m able to sleep, it will be filled with dream sequences of confusion and chaos. Something I’m not looking forward to, but I need to sleep.

  I fumble with my phone. My eyes are blurry, and I can barely see the screen. I have absolutely no idea what to type back. I’m confused, and I’m scared.

  How can I, when I don’t trust you? How can I, when I’m against everything your love represents? I can’t think right now, I need to sleep.

  I turn off my phone, turn out the light and roll over while the tears continue to fall.

  Chapter Sixteen

  I’ m not sure how long I actually slept or what time it is when I begin to stir. My eyes don’t open when I feel the body slip under the sheets, and I don’t move when I feel the slender arm wrap around me. But when I feel the lips press against my face, the sweet feeling of full, warm, and wet lips, a contented sigh releases from my throat. I’m still a bit delirious and unsure of where I’m at this moment. I guess I think I’m still at Lily’s in some half-conscious daze. That is until I feel the familiar contour of the body in bed with me and when she speaks my name, my eyes fly open.

  I’m on my side facing the wall, I blink a few times trying to clear the fog from my eyes. Right now they feel like they’re burning out of my head which is probably the result of not enough sleep and the waterfall of tears I shed during the night. I think to myself how much I’ve cried since I’ve been back in my hometown and none of it is related to the fact that I’m paralyzed. I think about the five years I lived in California, and I don’t remember shedding one tear while I lived my life free of this bullshit emotion.

  “Laurel, wake up baby,” Sam whispers in my ear as her lips press against the side of my head.

  My skin starts to tingle, and my heart rate picks up as her hand begins to roam my body. I’m clothed, well, semi anyway. Not that it’s preventing her movement, because now her hand is up my shirt fondling my breast…pinching my nipple. I can’t hold in the moans anymore, and now the area between my legs begins to hum.

  “Baby, I know what you like in the morning,” she says in a low growl.

  She pulls my shoulder toward her, pressing my back against the mattress and I don’t resist. Yes, Sam knows what I like in the morning and she should because it was her that would wake me this way at least twice a week. Who wouldn’t like a tongue between their legs to start their day? I can’t think many would be opposed. But that is just my opinion of course.

  She slides herself on top of me and instinctively my legs open to allow her to fall between. She pushes herself up on her hands and is now looking down at me. Her eyes connect with mine and my stomach twists. My arms are still at my side, I guess this is my way of protesting. But me being rigid is not going to stop this train from leaving the station, and I know I won’t be able to resist much longer because I now realize she is completely naked.

  “I think we need to remove this,” she says. I raise my arms as she pulls the bottom of my tank top over my breasts and head.

  I watch as her eyes narrow, her focus is locked on my neck, and it dawns on me that last night Lily was sucking it for all it was worth so I can imagine there is quite a hickie present. She gently cups my face and turns my head to the side. “Hmm.” I hear the annoyed tone and wonder if seeing how I was marked by another woman will break this spell and impede any further seduction.

  But she just runs a finger over the mark a couple of times before she turns my head back to her. Her eyes still narrowed, and now she is biting her lip. I’m trying to read what she is thinking right now. If she’s judging me…thinking I’m some type of floozy, slut, or whore. She certainly knows I’ve been sleeping with Lily, she caught us red-handed. Between that and our sexual trysts, there must be some serious mixed signals being sent.

  I’m staring into her eyes, trying to find something other than the love and passion I’m seeing in them right now…but there is nothing else but that. Maybe she doesn’t care, maybe she just wants me to pick her and not Lily. Is she trying to one-up her? If that is the case, I’ll have to tell her, that there is no contest when it comes to sex, Sam would win every time…hands down. But I’m not picking someone to own my heart.

  Her mouth connects with mine. Her kiss is soft and gentle. I can feel her lower her body, her breasts are now touching mine, and her hips are pressing slowly between my legs. I know what’s she’s doing. I know she’s teasing me, making me breathless…making me squirm beneath her touch. Making me want her.

  Her tongue leaves my mouth, which is perfectly fine because I’m heaving for breath right now. My clit is throbbing, and I need her sweet mouth down there now. I need her to take me into the depths of ecstasy that only exists between us.

  She drags her tongue down my neck through the dip between my collarbone, down my sternum and over to my left nipple where she proceeds to bite down with some force. My hands immediately tangle themselves in her blonde hair as my back arches up, and a pleasured moan escapes my throat. I think that it may be too early for the whole pain-pleasure escapades, but it has been a while since I’ve received a good ass slapping. However, I have no idea what time it is until I glance at the clock on my nightstand. It was 6:45 a.m., and I thought no wonder my eyes are burning out of my head…I’ve only slept for less than an hour. Weird how it felt like I was asleep for hours.

  Her hand reaches over to pinch the other nipple while simultaneously biting the other…the sensation reaches my nether region, and I’m ready to explode.

  “Oh fuck,” I growl.

  She looks up at me with a smile then pushes herself into a kneeling position. “Well beautiful, it’s time for these to go.”

  Then she pulls my girl boxers off and slides between my legs. Her hot mouth instantly finds my pussy. She pulls my clit into her mouth, sucking it so amazingly while pushing a finger inside me.

  “Oh, baby…don’t stop.” My raspy words fill the air around us, and I’m hoping no one is awake yet, wandering around the living room, or the therapy room because I’m about to scream. Her fingers are sliding so delicately…so deliciously inside me, her tongue stroking my swollen bud. I can feel the bed rocking, and I know she is as excited as I am and ready to join me in this orgasm.

  “Fuck!” I yell. Oh God, this feels so good. When you’re getting fucked and licked at the same time, it is a feeling like no other. The burn is starting which causes my hands to release her hair and grip onto the sheets because if I don’t, I’ll be pulling the hair from her head.

  My breath suddenly stops as the tremors begin. Two different style orgasms being intertwined into one is not something that can be explained…just experienced. I hear her cry out while her mouth is still latched onto me and I think she must be some kind of love-making savant to be able to get off and keep everything else going at the same time.

  My cry soon follows. Anyone in earshot would wonder if she’s killing me by the way I’m carrying on. But it is not something I can hold in, maybe scream into a pillow…but I’m too deep into the trance to even think of grabbing a pillow. />
  My body falls limp, my breath is ragged, and my skin is vibrating.

  “That was so utterly amazing,” I whisper as I catch my breath.

  I look at her as she pushes herself into a kneeling position then slowly retracts her fingers, and I think she is going to climb up my body and kiss me like she always did. But that thought is stripped from my head when she adds the third finger and pushes herself inside me…this time with a tad bit of force. Okay, so she wasn’t done with me.

  She is fucking me so fast and so hard that I actually feel my eyes roll back into my head. My mouth is agape, my lungs are vacant of breath because I’m being transported into the pleasure realm I haven’t visited in quite some time. This was a place Sam would take me to, and only Sam could ever take me to. It’s a place where only pleasure existed, the kind of pleasure that invades my soul. Where the orgasm is intense, and it always shatters said soul.

  My throat is now raw from screaming, and my eyes are burning from the tears flowing from them again. Sam’s body is pressed against mine, she is holding me as tightly as I’m holding her. She has definitely pulled out all the stops, reminding me of every reason why I loved her in the past and every reason why I could love her again. Right now as I’m clinging to Sam, as the tears are falling, and as much as I want to say those words again, I can’t…because I know it is the fear that is driving the tears more than anything right now.