It Takes A Year: Part Seven

I was used to my first kiss with someone being feverish, something that happened in the hasty throes of pseudo-passion. In hindsight it always seemed to be in the wrong place at the wrong time; Nothing but hungry hands and desperate mouths acting on impulse. A drunken mistake, an act of pity, or simply the claws of an envious predator. However, some moments in life decide to be generous to me. It’s not often that I actually get to experience a genuine moment of intimacy, at least not with someone new. Most vividly I recall it happening with Will. Not even a year later and now it was happening with someone else.

Speaking of Tyler: He’s sweeter than the words that preluded our embrace. His kisses were tender and slow, obviously indulging themselves in previous desires. Not that I can blame him; I’d been thinking about it for half the night too but I didn’t expect it to happen like this. No, I expected it to be just as reckless as it usually was. I thought maybe he’d plant a sloppy kiss on me while we danced or that I’d play coy before challenging him to make out with me in a drunken game of “Truth or Dare”. I didn’t expect a heartfelt confession or a realization so deep that it made us fall into our own cessation of time. I could trust him and his careful hands, his sincere lips, and his soulful gaze. If it was any other time this year I would have already been screaming words of regret into my own ears. But I was done with that. I was free of my old habits, finished with doing things at the expense of others and beating myself up for past mistakes. I didn’t just want this, I deserved this.

I felt Tyler’s fingers curling into my hair from the base of my neck. I didn’t think I could get anymore goosebumps but I did. I’ll admit that there was always something exciting about kissing someone new. Luckily this time it wasn’t just another shot in the dark.

Continue reading

Advertisements

It Takes A Year: Part Six

[Updated: 2/15/17]

Tara and I played a few more songs together before she stopped to answer the texts that she’d gotten. While she scrolled through her phone I pulled out my own too, wondering if the vibrations I was ignoring were from Will. One of my messages did turn out to be from him but it was just a generic reply to our earlier conversation about his annoying new coworker. I was kind of used to it by now to be honest. I also saw that Tyler had texted me asking what was up. I hadn’t seen him since the first time we met and I honestly wanted to hang out again in a less tense setting. He seemed genuinely concerned for my well-being. We texted pretty much daily and it felt nice. Will didn’t really bring up personal things in our conversations anymore. The more casual he kept it, the easier it’d be for us to move on. At least I suspected that’s what his plan was. It’d be just like last time, except now we weren’t looking towards a reunion.

“My friend Lana just invited us to a party at her friend’s house, you wanna swing by?” Tara asked.

My senses perked up a little. A party didn’t seem to bad, it’d be a nice way to unwind and meet Tara’s other friends. Alicia’s crowd was getting boring and predictable. I could use some new faces in my life.

“Yeah, I’m down,” I said.

Tara put her guitar aside and closed her laptop. We both agreed that we needed to change clothes. I headed to my room and started flipping through my closet for something extra cute to wear. I had to admit that I was slacking on my appearance as of late. Will used to tell me that I looked sexy with messy hair and no makeup on but my recent mornings in the mirror begged to differ. Tara, on the other hand, seemed to look flawless all the time. I couldn’t decide if it was her chic hairstyle, her healthy amounts of sleep, or her enviable body. She had youthful skin which she could probably thank her mother for. I remember her coming over once to drop something off for Tara. That’s when I found out that Tara was half Vietnamese. I knew she looked mixed.

It was easy to notice that Tara’s eyes were bright and lively while my lids seemed to be heavier than before. It took a decent amount of concealer to hide the darkness cradling my sockets. They always got worse when Will left.

When I looked at Tara on those days that she sat cross-legged on the couch, hair tussled and guitar in lap, I wondered if that’s the way he used to see me. Existing beautifully in my own little world, gently in focus. Back when happiness actually shone through my skin instead of hiding away in hollow bones. The perfect candid.

Continue reading

It Takes A Year: Part Five

[Updated: 4/20/17]

The afternoon sun broke through the blinds and stung at my eyelids. I had just emerged from a deep sleep, my head reeling slightly and my throat dry. I turned away from the white light to lay on my other side. I had almost forgotten that I wasn’t alone in bed. Tyler laid just across from me on his back, one arm over his head and the other curled across his stomach. He had slept in his clothes just like I had. Nerves tingled down my spine and I took a deep breath. I hoped that no one had noticed us go upstairs together, especially not Alicia or the other girls. There’s no way that they’d believe we had simply spent the night sleeping a foot away from each other. I mean, how often did anyone I know really do that? I don’t even know if I’d believe it. All I knew was that if Will heard any more rumors about me that the demise of our relationship would be set in stone.

I pulled my phone out from beneath my thigh where it had fallen out of my pocket. I checked the notifications on the screen. He’d called me two times and messaged me once with a simply question mark. I took another deep breath and opened his chat box. He was online.

Sorry I just got up. couldn’t get to sleep last night.” I typed. A few seconds passed and he started to reply. My heart sped up.

its okay.” he said.

are you at the apartment?” I asked, thinking that maybe I should have said “home” instead.

Yeah.”

I’ll be back soon then. Give me a few.”

Alright.”

Love you, I thought in his voice.

I locked my phone again. These bland conversations starved me and I hated it. I hated myself for everything that had happened. He deserved so much better.

Continue reading

It Takes A Year: Part Four

[Updated: 4/20/17]

As Will laid alone in his bed I was miles away draped over an unfamiliar couch. Drunken bodies decorated the rest of the room, framing my limp form in the center. I heard my phone nip at my thigh three times after I hung up on him. I didn’t flinch a single time. I knew he had probably poured his heart out to me through the screen and I didn’t have the will to illuminate my face with his fractured words. I felt entirely hollow. The only thing filling my senses were the light breaths of the unconscious ones around me and the soft clicking of dishes in the kitchen. I had forgotten that there was at least one other person awake. I traced their footsteps around the house until they finally creaked into the living room.

“You’re still alive huh?”

It was the party hosts’ roommate, Tyler. I’d seen him around my circle a few times and knew him for how chill he was about letting people over. He wasn’t much of a drinker but smoked a lot whenever we were all together. Even from a few feet away I could smell the cigarettes underneath his cologne.

“Barely,” I said with complete honesty.

“Ah. Well I hope you don’t plan on puking on the floor like my brother did. That shit was gross.”

“No, I think I’ll be fine in that department.”

“There’s that at least. Do you want some water though?”

“Umm…Yeah. Water would be good.”

“Coming right up.”

He turned and went back into the kitchen. I listened to him pull down a glass and fill it with water from the fridge. My hand grasped lightly at my pocket, tempted to finally read your messages. I was just about to pull out my phone when he returned.

“I put ice in if that’s okay,” he said, handing the glass to me.

“Yeah that’s fine. Thanks Tyler.”

“No problemo. I’m pretty much the designated baby sitter at this point. Though it looks like all the other kids are knocked.”

“Yeah…” I laughed weakly. Tyler sat in the armchair beside the couch as I took small sips from the glass. He started scrolling through his phone, the illumination bringing his face into view from the darkness. The light in the kitchen crept a couple feet past its threshold, stopping just before the shadows of the living room. I sat there in silence before glancing up at him. He had steel gray eyes and undercut black hair. He looked so young to me.

Continue reading

It Takes A Year: Part Three

[Updated: 4/20/17]

Will left me in the morning with a heavy head and leaky eyes. I knew he had to work, but the fear and distress of the night before had convinced me that the space he left beside me in bed was permanent. I didn’t have the cute text he usually leaves me on my phone when he went to work. I had no indication of hope left to wake up to, only a single fan blowing and the rays of a rising sun. I laid still for a moment, basking in the memories of last night. How he had pushed me away and how our first “I love you” was in the midst of anger and lies. I had never fallen apart so fast before. I’d never let someone’s actions control so much of how I felt. I was so used to apathy and shrugging off someone’s threats because I knew I’d find someone new. But I didn’t want anyone to replace Will, for once I didn’t want someone new.

After I laid in the painful silence for a few minutes I brought up his number and hovered my thumbs over the screen. I started with a simple greeting, one without the embellishments of affection I was used to giving. He replied almost immediately, sounding so monotone and careless even through the little words on the screen. I began to type “I miss you” and stopped, wondering if it was just going to bother him. I backtracked and asked if he was at work first. He said he was. I told him I missed him and he didn’t answer me back right away. “I’ll be home at four” he said, blowing past my sentiment. My heart hurt.

I had to find something to do with my day that didn’t involve sobbing in his room for nine hours. I called up a girlfriend of mine to take me out around noon. I needed to vent, to try and understand where we’d go from here.

She picked me up from the apartment and we planned on going to the mall to get smoothies. She could tell from the heaviness of my stride that something was very wrong.

Continue reading

It Takes A Year: Part Two

[Updated: 4/20/17]

“So what are we?”

“I don’t know.”

I was irritated. It had been three weeks after our first kiss and we were sitting in Will’s room again on the same bed where it happened. Many more things had come to pass in those three weeks. We saw each other often, we went on dates, we fell asleep together, and he started grabbing my hand in public places. I couldn’t deny that it was a blissful time. Things just felt easy. Natural. I’d shower at his place and he’d knock on the door, saying he had to come in. Truth was he just wanted to sneak me wet kisses on my skin and hold me from behind while I combed my hair. He blew up my phone while I was gone and it didn’t bother me at first. I just got used to it. I got used to Will.

But that week he’d been questioning me. He was eager for us to be something more tangible. I just wasn’t sure yet. Even though I liked him a lot and he sent my heart in a flurry I was scared. Looking back now I know that I was afraid of committing to him.

5 days after I kissed Will I kissed a boy who I’d liked 2 years ago. The boy had finally expressed his interest for me at a party and I let a mix of vodka and nostalgia wrap my body around his. I felt a writhing in my gut, a sickness that burned my throat and tore me away from him momentarily. He found attention from another girl for awhile before finding me again. I still smiled at him after, still hugged him and hung off of his arm that night while he sneaked me kisses on my drunken mouth. We passed out together on the couch.

I didn’t talk to Will for a few days after that. I shut up in my room listening to slow music and a buzzing phone. I wanted to be distant. After he became almost frantic in his calling I finally told him I was coming over. He asked me how the party was and why I didn’t ask him to go. I told him it was just a spur of the moment thing and that I wasn’t really thinking about it. He assumed I just wasn’t thinking about him at all. He had seen the pictures of me grinning and hanging over the other boy’s shoulder. I didn’t know an old flame of mine was going to be there. Will didn’t know our lips touched. I just got up and went with the same freedom I’d been used to having. I didn’t mean to hurt his feelings.

Continue reading

It Takes A Year: Part One

[Updated: 2/9/17]

It took a year to destroy his heart.

And I’ll never forget that year.

He came to me with a wide smile and a worn out soul. I was high on freedom and he was lost in loneliness when he stumbled through the haze. I had just gotten to the venue and headed to the bar to grab a drink with my friends. We returned to the floor and leaned carefully against the rails in front of the stage, a gaggle of pretty faces and dewy skin. I saw him among the crowd. His brown hair was swept back away from that handsome face, the face I’d see covered in tears many times after. Who knows why my eyes didn’t wander to the other men for the rest of the night? I suppose destiny wanted to play games with me.

I noticed a couple of girls and guys tagging along with him. I nudged my friend and nodded his way.

“Check this guy out.”

“Oh my god.”

“Right?”

“Go talk to him!”

The other girls and I turned into a giggling mess. I agreed to go talk to him if one of my friends went and talked to some blonde gym junkie nearby. It was only supposed to be a spectator sport. It was never meant to spiral into the depths that it did. A year was never supposed to start here.

When I started heading his way I was glad that I had taken a little extra effort to do my hair and makeup that night. That was back when I flaunted what I had when I had to. He’d later hold those nights against me.

As I approached him I had the shallow hope that one of those girls wasn’t his girlfriend. Even if one of them was I hoped that it was the one with the big nose and the baggy jeans, someone who couldn’t immediately hold a candle to me. I’m not going to act like I was a nice person back then. I wasn’t. I never was.

Continue reading