Book One In The Ahh-Ness Of Things Series: April & Donnie were once inseparable, but now almost six years have passed since she left NYC. What if April O'Neil could set the record straight, once & for all! The only girl down enough to chill with the...
¡Ay! Esta imagen no sigue nuestras pautas de contenido. Para continuar la publicación, intente quitarla o subir otra.
"Say it."
I let him kiss me softly, but instantly pulled away. I didn't want to see this girl in his head.
"April."
He wanted me to say I loved him. That I wanted to be with him. I couldn't. I knew he wouldn't go any further if I didn't acknowledge it; he had too much pride & good manners to take more than kisses without me saying it out loud. Even in moments between lovers, there was that much of a need for preservation, in the way he was raised. Physical desire for someone was not to be all romantic drama where the girl falls into the guy's arms & gives up her strength & will, without so much as word from her; at his first passionate advance. No that's not how it works here among them; these moments are sacred & too fleeting to push into them forcefully. The definition of pathos; moving into persuaded reaction only based on the judgements of one another. Our relationship read like Aristotle. You have to both agree. It is a personal thing for each to individually surrender. There's modesty in discipline, no matter how much you think you have an in. That was something I knew better than to give up without telling him the truth after all this time. He deserved that & he knew it. Yet I couldn't speak, because all I could feel was her touch. All I could see was her face & as he laid me back down along side him, I was laid parallel into his memories of her.
What was the point anymore. I was impossible, I always played him so strong & he was over waiting for me to make up my mind. He was tired of pretending I would one day suddenly realize all of his hopes & aspirations. That I would notice all of the little things, the affection he had always so naturally given me.
He had loved me so sweetly, that when he realized just how dumb he must have seemed it had made the taste of his memories bitter. Now it was seeping into something good. Something he was protecting & didn't want me to touch. He was thinking about her. He was staring at the lights above him, thinking about how her heart was probably breaking, & my mind went out to her .
I could see that he was right; at that exact moment, she sat on the edge of her bed. Her cramped little room, the smell of freshly hung drywall, the flickering light of the TV in the dark. Looking over at a little boy now and then; trying not to let him hear her crying quietly, putting on her brave face. She felt like she didn't have a right to be sitting there missing someone she hardly meant anything to, trying not to tell herself she was ridiculous for even thinking she did at all. I suddenly knew I was sharing her thoughts from across a void. It wasn't just his memories; I could see her, in real time in another place; while I lay there next to him. I don't think I had ever been able to do anything remotely like this before.
I laid against him & he tentatively brushed my hair from my face. He had always cared for me. I mean really taken care of me. Throughout everything, I had never lacked for anything I ever needed. I don't think I had thanked him once. He had been in miserable contemplation when I had walked in on him, intending to reach into his thoughts. Now I wished I could run from them. He knew he was going to let me back in, he couldn't help it, he wouldn't stop it. He had let me break away from him a thousand different ways & still waited. He was here again, with me. Nothing to consider in his heart more than holding to me for what he was certain would be the last time. But in his mind indifference was beading like drops of water on a window, connecting into pooling streams of memories where I had let him carry the weight of us, until he couldn't see why he needed me anymore.
Was it ever good? Had it ever been worth it, only to lead up to this; clinging to me, believing I was never going to be able to return his love. Why couldn't I just let him be with me, or let him be alone. Why did I always hold him out at arm's length just to persuade him back emotionally. Finally accepting that it was just his imagination; I never professed my feelings out loud the way he did. He wanted nothing more than to make me happy, unselfishly without much of anything in return; but he needed more. He was convinced it was never really mutual & he should be concerned with only himself from now on. Maybe all we ever really had was this ability to connect to each other so effortlessly. It was not the same as give & take. A thread that forever kept us from ever completely being apart.
He met me in his thoughts, he was not the boy I had left behind; "Let me be selfish."
The instant he pulled me to him again, I was gone. I couldn't even feel his kiss now, I couldn't see him. I was in some other time without any choice, like his demand has shaken me over a ledge & for all I know I was having a seizure in front of him because I was not in my body at all. He was trying to reach me but I was with her.
This girl was beyond beautiful. She was 18 or 19; the age we had been when I had left. She knew he was good & his touch was gentle, if only briefly; & just like that I was in his memories again. This was the madness I had been fighting for almost a year now. My mind couldn't remain my own & without warning, I was living through someone else, making it impossible to stay in my own head & now as he touched me; I couldn't even stay in my own body. I knew only a short time had passed since I first curled up in his bed, but it seemed like I was living out days. I knew so much more than just memories of the past or hearing his thoughts in my head. I saw through his memories; we were a part of each other more so than we ever had been before, even though I don't think he knew what was happening to me. I could feel his arms enclosing around my body & I knew my feet were touching his, as he kissed me again & again; but I stumbling through places where I didn't want to be in his mind. I was invading some sweet moment that I knew nothing about.
His fingertips on her soft skin, I could feel them as if they were my own; running up the side of her face and into her thick, dark hair . The sugary sweet smell of her perfume, like candy & flowers. Carmel & coconut & orchids. How he was so close to her; I could taste her. He was kissing her. With his hand in her hair just as it was now in mine. The taste of ice cream. I was too close; the ache of my heart was pounding in fear. I didn't want to know. He was kissing me harder, he was actively pushing all conscious thoughts away. I opened my eyes & saw him in front of me. He was there in the present with me, she was gone. He couldn't see what was unfolding inside of me, as I was tangled up in their past; I had become trapped in a mirror house outside of my body, into his.
