weird.
I breathed a sigh of relief that I forced Emma to promise me she would not become one of the crazies. I wasn’t sure why I had done that, but I didn’t want to see her go down the road toward Crazy Town. She was better than that, and too nice of a person to become that type of woman. If I needed to tie her up and lock her in the basement to prevent her from going psycho, then I would. Mel too. Although, it might already be too late for Mel. By the time I met her, she was already well on her way. Thankfully, Emma promised.
Even before I got home tonight, my thoughts drifted to Emma. I wanted her to be the first person I told about my date. I wanted her to be the person I laughed, or cried, with. I didn’t want to think about the whys of it, but something about her had me confiding in her. Maybe that sounded odd, and it was for me, because I had never been inclined to talk to anyone about my dates or my life before. Mel knew, but I had known her since high school and our families were friends. Emma was different. Normally outside the select two or three, I kept most things to myself, and this one little slip of a girl made me want to reach out to her.
What happened to her? Would she even tell me the whole story when she finally decided to confide in me? I somehow doubted it, and that bothered me. I wanted her to trust me enough to tell me anything. Not only due to her relationship with Mel, but because I genuinely liked her and wanted her to find her happiness. Before any of that could happen though, we had to get down to the heart of the matter.
My mind wandered and conjured various reasons for her self-esteem and trust issues. Each and every fictional reason I imagined, had my anger increasing. My hands balled into fists at my sides, and I lifted them right before I brought them down hard on either side of my body, hitting my bed. She deserved better. I didn’t know what happened, and yet, I instinctively wanted her to have better.
Turning over, I peered out of the window of my bedroom. I lived near the beach, and if I opened my window I would be able to hear the crashing waves over the sounds of traffic. But looking out the window, inky blackness greeted me, matching my mood perfectly.
I heard my roommate getting in from his own date, and sighed. Maybe I was the one that should to get laid instead of Emma. I hadn’t had sex since we pulled into port in South America a couple months ago. Fuck, I needed something. Too bad I didn’t know what I needed, and yet, I had this niggling feeling in the back of my mind that I should know.
Tonight had sent me over the edge and made me forget why I should not mix cold medicine and alcohol. As I left earlier tonight, I felt almost guilty for going out on a date. Why? I wasn’t in a committed relationship and was single and carefree. But the feelings of guilt would not leave, then the date turned sour, and when I got home I grabbed the new bottle of whisky, put it to my lips and guzzled a quarter of it before I set it down on the counter. I had convinced myself talking to Emma would be unnecessary and wrong. And yet, after drinking a few more gulps, I drunk chatted her.
Why the hell had I done that? Maybe talking to her lately made me feel closer to her than almost anyone else. Maybe it was the promise to share with her if she shared with me. Maybe I wanted to talk to someone who didn’t know me, who wouldn’t push me too much. Emma would understand that.
My life was beginning to spiral, but for some reason thinking of Emma allowed me to believe I had an anchor somewhere in the world. Because finding out from your little sister that your parents had made the decision to get a divorce, on top of funky feet, equaled one hell of a night.
Chapter 12
Emma
I didn’t know how much Bryan drank the night before, or how early he had to get up in the morning in order to make it to his duty station on time, however, I did know when he
I breathed a sigh of relief that I forced Emma to promise me she would not become one of the crazies. I wasn’t sure why I had done that, but I didn’t want to see her go down the road toward Crazy Town. She was better than that, and too nice of a person to become that type of woman. If I needed to tie her up and lock her in the basement to prevent her from going psycho, then I would. Mel too. Although, it might already be too late for Mel. By the time I met her, she was already well on her way. Thankfully, Emma promised.
Even before I got home tonight, my thoughts drifted to Emma. I wanted her to be the first person I told about my date. I wanted her to be the person I laughed, or cried, with. I didn’t want to think about the whys of it, but something about her had me confiding in her. Maybe that sounded odd, and it was for me, because I had never been inclined to talk to anyone about my dates or my life before. Mel knew, but I had known her since high school and our families were friends. Emma was different. Normally outside the select two or three, I kept most things to myself, and this one little slip of a girl made me want to reach out to her.
What happened to her? Would she even tell me the whole story when she finally decided to confide in me? I somehow doubted it, and that bothered me. I wanted her to trust me enough to tell me anything. Not only due to her relationship with Mel, but because I genuinely liked her and wanted her to find her happiness. Before any of that could happen though, we had to get down to the heart of the matter.
My mind wandered and conjured various reasons for her self-esteem and trust issues. Each and every fictional reason I imagined, had my anger increasing. My hands balled into fists at my sides, and I lifted them right before I brought them down hard on either side of my body, hitting my bed. She deserved better. I didn’t know what happened, and yet, I instinctively wanted her to have better.
Turning over, I peered out of the window of my bedroom. I lived near the beach, and if I opened my window I would be able to hear the crashing waves over the sounds of traffic. But looking out the window, inky blackness greeted me, matching my mood perfectly.
I heard my roommate getting in from his own date, and sighed. Maybe I was the one that should to get laid instead of Emma. I hadn’t had sex since we pulled into port in South America a couple months ago. Fuck, I needed something. Too bad I didn’t know what I needed, and yet, I had this niggling feeling in the back of my mind that I should know.
Tonight had sent me over the edge and made me forget why I should not mix cold medicine and alcohol. As I left earlier tonight, I felt almost guilty for going out on a date. Why? I wasn’t in a committed relationship and was single and carefree. But the feelings of guilt would not leave, then the date turned sour, and when I got home I grabbed the new bottle of whisky, put it to my lips and guzzled a quarter of it before I set it down on the counter. I had convinced myself talking to Emma would be unnecessary and wrong. And yet, after drinking a few more gulps, I drunk chatted her.
Why the hell had I done that? Maybe talking to her lately made me feel closer to her than almost anyone else. Maybe it was the promise to share with her if she shared with me. Maybe I wanted to talk to someone who didn’t know me, who wouldn’t push me too much. Emma would understand that.
My life was beginning to spiral, but for some reason thinking of Emma allowed me to believe I had an anchor somewhere in the world. Because finding out from your little sister that your parents had made the decision to get a divorce, on top of funky feet, equaled one hell of a night.
Chapter 12
Emma
I didn’t know how much Bryan drank the night before, or how early he had to get up in the morning in order to make it to his duty station on time, however, I did know when he
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