by Alicia Rades
I bury my face into my pillow, letting all my emotions run out through my tears. At this point, I’m not even sure what thoughts are racing through my mind. All I know is that I’m furious. I know I may have overreacted when I found those links, but I need something to fuel my anger at him, so I don’t let myself believe for a moment that he might be an okay guy.
My worries don’t subside for even a second. I thought I was in love with Jacob, and then I find out that he’s not only possibly writing a story about me but that he has a kid and that he lives with his kid’s mother. That’s not something I cannot forgive. Is that why he had to leave early for each date? Is it because he didn’t want his girlfriend to find out? This realization makes my body convulse uncontrollably and causes my tears to pour even harder to my pillow. Their relationship must be bad if he cheated on her with me.
I feel dirty thinking about this, realizing that I’m that girl. I’ve never been that girl, and I really don’t want to be. Why would he even invite me up to his apartment if he knew his girlfriend would be home soon? Maybe she came home early and that’s why he shouted at her when I left. Jacob doesn’t seem like an aggressive guy. Even the way he shouted wasn’t terribly mean. However, I find myself wondering what’s going on between them, and I imagine that they’re fighting.
“Who is she?” Jen says in my head.
“She’s no one,” Jacob replies in his calm, collected manner.
“Oh, really? She’s the slut you’ve been seeing, isn’t she? And you let her in here with Ben in the next room. How could you, Jake?”
I don’t like the way my fantasy is going, so I quickly repress this thought and try not to worry about what happened when I left.
Why did I have to accept Juliet’s invitation to go meet this guy? Sure, I had the time of my life when I was with him, and although I don’t want to admit it, I would love to share that time with him again if it wasn’t for the rest of these issues, but I hate him for lying to me.
I know that I kept certain details from him, but my acting career has nothing on a goddamn child. I cannot be with him, no matter if he is still romantically involved with Jen or not.
As I lie awake in my bed, I try my hardest to let go of him. That bastard has no right tearing apart my heart like this. Who does he think he is?
I don’t want him to affect me like this, and I struggle to regain control over my body, to sooth the knot in my chest and relieve my heart ache, but the more I try, the worse it gets. I cannot let go of this man. He was so good to me for a moment, and I know I will never forget that.
I cry long enough that the tears stop coming. I now have a hard film across my face where they’ve dried up. I wipe it away with my hands the best I can.
When I regain a bit of strength, I realize how empty my stomach is, and although I have no appetite, I know I have to eat something. I can’t remember the last time I ate.
I exit my bedroom and enter the darkness of the apartment. Juliet has gone to bed, and I can only navigate my way around via the light seeping in through the living room window.
I open the fridge and find nothing. I really need to go grocery shopping. That thought takes me back to earlier today when Jen walked through the door with her groceries, and it makes my skin burn with rage as I replay the memory.
A box in the back of the fridge catches my eye. I pull it out and open it. It’s the piece of pizza from our second date, all cold and dried up. I know it would taste fine if I put it in the microwave, but I really don’t want to it eat, so I throw it out.
I grab the milk carton from the top shelf and dig in the cupboards for the box of Lucky Charms. I pull my dish from the drying wrack next to the sink and prepare my bowl of cereal, finishing off the milk. I look down at my first scoop, staring at the shooting star marshmallow in the dim light. I could really use a wish, and although it’s childish, I wish upon this shooting star, praying that this situation will somehow work its way out.
I finish my cereal and return to my bedroom, removing my glasses and crawling back into bed where it seems I’ve been spending most of my time lately.
When I wake up, I feel slightly well-rested. I put myself into my work to get my mind off of Jacob. I almost succeed until the doorbell rings.
Not again, I think to myself, and I nervously make my way to the door. When I open it, I’m not surprised at what I see. There’s a bouquet of flowers—red roses again—waiting for me, but when the delivery guy hands me the bouquet, he also puts a fairly large box of chocolates in my hand.
Curiosity gets the better of me, and I check the note that Jacob’s left me. It’s a simple message.
I’m sorry.
-Jacob
I have not forgiven him, but I don’t take the meat tenderizer to these flowers this time. Instead, I simply toss them in the garbage. I keep the chocolates and place them next to me on my computer desk. I eat them, mostly because they were free, and I find comfort in the assortment of flavors. Each delicious piece melts in my mouth, but I don’t let them remind me of Jacob.
I continue throughout my week by diving into web design, and I find that it easily takes my mind off things. That is, when Jacob isn’t sending me flowers.
On Wednesday, I’m able to relax better in my yoga session and even chat with my normal group of friends before class, but when I get home and the doorbell rings, my body tenses. His note this time:
Please Call.
-Jacob
I delete his number from my phone, which now has a slight crack in the screen from when I threw it across the room. I won’t make the mistake of actually calling him. I want to instead forget all about him.
When I finally have enough courage to face Juliet, she asks me how I’m doing.
“I’m fine,” I tell her, allowing a bit of my annoyance to seep through into my tone.
“Are you finally ready to tell me what you’ve been upset about?” Her voice is calm, collected, and full of sincere concern for me. It annoys me.
“No,” I snap at her, and she drops the subject. I know I’m being a bitch again, but I just don’t want to deal with this shit.
A while later, I catch Juliet texting. I know she’s talking to Jacob about me. A knife cuts into my back, and I feel betrayed by her for talking to the bastard, but I don’t say anything.
20
When Thursday arrives, my heart is still aching for him. The week is seeming to go by at snail pace when I think about my aching heart, but when I look at anything else, it feels like it’s passing at lightning speed. It’s disorienting.
Getting out of bed, I sit at my computer desk. As my computer is taking its sweet time to turn on, I swivel in my chair, staring into space.
It’s now that I notice the bits of Jacob still spread across my room. His sticky notes from Sunday are still stuck to my desk where I left them. The first bouquet of flowers that he sent are still in the trash next to my desk, wilted and dead. The note attached to one of the stems stares up at me from the pile of glass shards, and underneath the flowers and the note sits his used condom. The two boxes of chocolate he sent, both now empty, also lie on my computer desk as a reminder.
I abruptly crumple up his sticky notes and throw them in the trash followed by the chocolate boxes. Then I gather up the trash bag at the corners and tie the plastic edges together.
I take the bag to the kitchen and toss it in the garbage. There. Now there’s nothing left to remind me of him.
With this action and feeling of accomplishment, I realize that I’ve been working far too much lately. I give myself permission to simply take the day off to relax, but I don’t stay in the apartment. Instead, I get dressed, slipping on a pair of comfortable jean capris and a white tee. I throw my hair up in a high ponytail, avoiding the mirror as I do so, grab my purse, and exit the apartment.
I flag down a taxi and ride my way to Central Park. I need to relax, and I think a bit of nature might do the trick. Once I arrive at the edge of the park, I climb out of the taxi and
hand the cab driver some cash, and then I stroll into the trees.
The sun is bright today, and the air temperature is in perfect sync with my body, not too hot and not too cold. The light breeze adds the finishing touches to the perfect weather. The smell of the city soothes me.
I take a lengthy walk along the paths, trying to calm my body by taking in the scenery while focusing on the trees. For the first time all week, I start to feel relaxed. The knot in my chest begins to loosen, and my tension headache starts to let up.
After several hours of walking nearly every path in the park, I find a bench and rest upon it, closing my eyes and listening to the sounds around me. It really is quite soothing. The knot in my chest loosens even farther, and I feel a bit better about myself.
As I listen to the sounds around me, I hear hooves on the pavement. I look up to find a beautiful white carriage headed my way. My heart drops as I admire the couple in the cab and the way the guy has his arm around her. The girl is smiling up at him. It reminds me of the way Jacob and I enjoyed a moment like this not even a week ago.
I’m momentarily pulled from my serene state as I stare at the couple, but once they pass and are out of sight, I close my eyes again and allow my body to relax.
I know that I’ve been here for a while—all day it seems—and when I feel that I’ve had sufficient time to unwind, I reach into my purse and pull out my cellphone to check the time.
My hand grazes across a piece of paper that I don’t remember putting in my bag. When I pull it out to see what it is, my heart flips inside my chest. I’m not sure if the sensation is a feeling of happiness that takes me back to the moment these photos were taken, if it’s a feeling of loss for not being able to keep this happy moment in my grasp, or if it’s a feeling of disappointment and hurt that I still have these photos in my possession.
It’s the photo strip from the booth that Jacob and I went to on Saturday. The corner is crumpled from being in my purse, but I smooth it out. I study the photos, and in them, I look so happy. I want that sort of happiness back, but I’m not sure if I’ll ever find it again.
Jacob is smiling up at me, too, and when I get to the bottom snapshot, the one where I caught him off guard with a kiss, I actually let out a giggle, amused by his expression. I quickly repress my giggle and continue studying the photograph.
Unwilling to see Jacob’s face, I cover each of his four expressions with my right hand, and I only focus on my own face. I look spectacular, and it’s not because I worked extra hard to make my hair look nice or to match the perfect shade of blush to my otherwise colorless cheeks. I look stunning because of the expression on my face, which is one of joy and happiness. I can tell that I’m enjoying myself in these photos, and I silently curse myself for letting that go.
I flip the photo strip over in my hand, and on the back is the last note I have left from Jacob. Tears begin to well up in my eyes, but I will not let myself cry.
I exit the park, still thinking about Jacob and clutching the photograph. I flag down another taxi.
When I climb in, the cab driver asks, “Where to, ma’am,” and I am unable to answer. I sit in silence for a moment, not sure where I’m headed. “Ma’am?” he asks again, prompting me, and I am shocked by what comes out of my mouth next.
“I want to go back to the Ferris wheel,” I say more to myself than to the driver.
“I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to be more specific.”
I wish I could be, but when Jacob took me there, I never watched where we were going, and it was my first time there. I don’t know where it is.
“I—I don’t know the address,” I tell him.
“Well, you’re going to have to give me something.” He seems annoyed, but he keeps his friendly smile.
I do my best to describe the place to him, and after a few descriptors, he knows where he’s headed. We ride in silence, and I’m surprised to see that it’s already getting dark out. I was walking through the park for quite some time, and I estimate that I was sitting on my bench for several hours. My plan to unwind worked, however, and I’m more relaxed than I’ve been all week. My body is no longer trembling.
When the taxi stops, I recognize the place, and I know this is exactly where the cab dropped us off last time. I hand the driver my money and thank him, exiting the cab.
It’s getting dark enough that the Ferris wheel’s lights are now on. I marvel in the beauty of it. This scene is simply stunning. I take out my phone and snap a picture, remembering a few of the pointers that Jacob showed me the other day in Central Park. I take a few moments to study the photo, and I’m satisfied.
I make my way to the Ferris wheel, and when it’s my turn in line, I hand the guy enough cash for one ride. I climb into the seat by myself, and in no time, I’m rising above the city.
More and more lights brighten the city, and they intensify as the sun goes down. By now, the sun is touching the horizon and shining over the water in a spectacular manner that leaves me awestruck. It is simply stunning from up here, and the corners of my mouth actually turn up into a smile, which I allow to transform into a grin.
The wheel makes another revolution, and as I near the top, I spread my arms out as if I’m flying. I feel free up here, and I am in love with the metropolis. My repressed smile erupts into a full grin as I fly above the city.
It doesn’t make sense that I’m here, and I know that, but I find some comfort in it anyway. When the man at the bottom releases me from my seat, I exit the ride unsure of what to do next. At a loss, I simply stroll between the vendors along the water, hoping for some inspiration to strike so that I’ll know what to do next.
The first concession that catches my eye is the cotton candy booth that I went to on Saturday. Without thinking, I approach the counter and pay for my own personal puffball. I pull off a piece and taste it. It melts in my mouth, reminding me of Jacob’s kisses. I let it sit there until it fully dissolves.
I easily find an empty space in the lawn, and I sit down, depositing my cotton candy into my mouth slowly while I admire the changing scenery around me. The sun has set now, but it’s still illuminating the atmosphere. I focus on the city lights as the sky dims, and I am completely lost in the artwork of the metropolis.
It is exquisite from the point of view, and all the city lights in all the sky scrapers combine together effortlessly to create a beautiful work of art.
I’m pleased with this small area of grass I’m perched upon, which I presume is meant as an eating area. It’s comfortable and gives me the perfect seat to admire the Ferris wheel lights. Even after I’m done with my cotton candy and the air begins to cool, I still marvel at the city. I really needed this day to relax, and with the aid of the city lights, the tension within my body eases. I’m now feeling more confident, freeing most of my anxiety related to Jacob from my mind.
Feeling like I’ve had enough time here, I get up, throw out my cotton candy stick, and wave down a taxi. Before I slide into my seat, I turn around one last time, take in the beauty, and snap a photo of the brilliant Ferris wheel against the dark background.
21
Friday morning passes uneventfully and consists of me simply poking at my computer like normal. As lunch approaches and I check the time on my laptop, I also catch a glimpse of the date. Tonight is the opening reception for the art exhibit that one of Juliet’s paintings will be in. I’m grateful for this, knowing that I really need a night out for a chance to really clear my mind.
I’m already dressed and ready to go before Juliet gets home. I almost decide to go with my first date attire, but I choose to wear my red evening gown instead because I feel it’s more appropriate.
My dress is gorgeous, featuring embellishments around my cleavage. The straps crisscross the back, leaving most of my spine exposed. The dress is long enough to trail along the floor, but with my black heels on, it just grazes the ground. There’s a slit up the side that exposes my leg for a sexy appeal, and I’ve completed this look by
curling my hair and piling it to the side, adding bright red lipstick to finish off my ensemble. I’m pleased with my appearance and force a bit of a smile in the mirror for encouragement.
Juliet enters the door and gawks at me. “You look hot!” she compliments.
“Thanks!” I say as Juliet makes her way to her room to get ready.
She passes by me again to go to the bathroom to shower. A few minutes later, she walks back through the living room, towel wrapped around her body, to get ready for the night. I’m watching TV to kill the time, but I’m mostly twiddling my thumbs, eager to get out on the town and forget my troubles.
When she finally emerges from her bedroom, she looks even sexier than I do. Her yellow dress is the perfect shade to compliment her blonde hair and tan complexion. It’s a single-strapped dress, and all the fabric comes to bunch onto the opposite side of the strap with a jeweled embellishment to hold it in place. The dress falls to her feet, and her hair is piled atop her head in a beautiful updo.
“Juliet, you look hot.”
She grins and spins around, letting me see her from every angle. I know she’s excited for the exhibit. I smile back at her, happy for her accomplishment. She really deserves this with all the hard work she puts into her paintings and showing off other artists’ works. Tonight, though, it’s her turn to shine a bit, even if it is just one painting.
“Shall we?” she asks, and we exit together and make our way to Pierceton’s Galleries, the location of her displayed painting. I don’t bring anything along with me except for some cash in case I need it. I slip that into my bra.
When we get to the gallery, there are already people shuffling into the building. We make our way inside, and the art seems to go on for miles. It’s a labyrinth in here, and I’m amazed that Juliet was able to get her artwork put into a show this huge.