Tumgik
#he drove me insane quite literally i started questioning myself and my reality
cosmojjong · 4 months
Text
my ex really said this to me once. he implied my degrees were useless and that i needed to get into something better because "he didn't want his children to be ashamed of their mother".
1 note · View note
j-j-ehlby-writes · 3 years
Text
Almost (c.e.)
Pairing: Chris Evans x reader
Word Count: ~5.9k
Summary: You and Chris were set up on a blind date by your mutual friends. Sparks flew, but you never heard from him again. Two years later, you come face-to-face with him once more for their friends wedding.
Warnings: Some angst, swearing, not much else
A/N: This is a mixture of the movie “Life as We Know It” (mmm Daddy Josh Duhamel 🤤), a dating experience I had, and one scene from One Tree Hill. Enjoy.
My Masterlist
Tumblr media
                    Two years ago…
My heart is pounding all the way to my ears. My hands are shaking under the table. My knee bounces uncontrollably as I wait.
I knew this was a bad idea. Why did I let her convince me to do this?
“You haven’t had a boyfriend for as long as I’ve known you.” My best friend so pointedly mentioned when we were out to lunch last week.
 “What’s wrong with that?” I counter.
“I’ve known you for three and a half years.” She deadpans. Even without looking at her, I know she has her eyebrow raised at me and her lips are pursed.
“Your point?” I know she thinks my serious lack of companionship these past few years is wearing on me, but it’s been quite the opposite. Not being attached is freeing. I can do what I want when I want; I don’t have anyone to answer to. If I want to sleep until 3 on a Saturday, I’m going to do it. If I don’t want to socialize with anyone, I won’t. If I want to take a spontaneous road trip, I’m going to do it. My life is my own and that’s how I like it.
“I want my best friend to have someone to experience life with.”
My shoulders dropped, sighing in defeat. There was no way I was getting out of this conversation.
“I want you to be as happy as I am.” I see the love in her eyes as her mind goes to her boyfriend and their new relationship. They’ve only been together for a few months, but I know that this is it for her. She’s a smitten kitten and he is equally as infatuated with her. They’re sickeningly cute. “Which is why I think you need to meet one of his friends-”
“Lemme stop you right there,” I interrupt her, “I hate blind dates.”
“You’ve never been on one.”
“And there’s a reason for that.” She rolled her eyes at me. “They’re cliché, they’re awkward for both parties, and they never amount to anything, thus being a total waste of time.”
She sighed, “Ever the skeptic.”
“And don’t you forget it.”
“Regardless,” she continues, “I think you’ll really like this guy. He’s already expressed interest in you.”
Like that makes everything better. “Great so now I have to live up to his impossible expectations of me when I know absolutely nothing about him.” As if the idea of a blind date wasn’t bad enough, now it’s only a semi-blind date. There’s no doubt in my mind that she has hyped me up impossibly high, that’s what a best friend is for. However, when your confidence level is next to none and already skeptical of the pending meeting, there’s no way he’ll like who I am in reality.
“I can tell you anything you want to know about him.” She is bargaining with me. She really wants me to meet this guy. She wouldn’t be trying this hard if she didn’t believe we would hit it off.
“Well is he nice?” This was the only real question I had. If he isn’t kind then there’s really no future.
“Incredibly!” She continues to tell me of the many things he has done for a charity he started a few years ago and slowly but surely she was starting to convince me. If he was that generous then he has to have a good heart and therefore is a good man.
How bad could it be?
I check my phone, glancing at the time. Great, he’s late. That can’t be a good start.
Numerous reasons why popped into my head.
Reason one: he saw me and bolted.
Reason two: he got into an accident on the way here and he could be in the hospital.
Reason three: he changed his mind and decided to stand me up.
More and more played through my head as I sipped my drink. 
By the time I was on my second drink, I was convinced he wasn’t showing up. I knew this was a ridiculous idea. I knew I shouldn’t have done this. I never should have listened to her.
I chugged the rest of my drink followed by some water before standing up to leave some cash. I was slightly humiliated for actually thinking this would be any different than all of my expectations.
My shoulder rammed into another as I turned to leave.
“Oh my, God, I’m so sorry!” A hand steadied me, gently grabbing the shoulder he ran into. “Are you okay?”
“My already small ego is a little bruised, but I think I’ll live.” I looked up to meet my assaulter’s eyes and immediately I froze.
Holy shit, it’s Chris Evans.
His piercing blue eyes were staring right at me, his concern was directed towards me. In all of his charming, ray of sunshine, bearded glory, he was here.
“I’m so sorry that I’m late. Traffic was insane over the bridge. I would have called but I don’t have your number.” He half-smirked but not in a cocky way. I’d seen him do it in interviews before. He could have come up with a lame excuse, but somehow I knew he was telling the truth.
“No, it’s okay. I understand completely.”
He sighed in relief, his gorgeous and perfect smile taking over his features. He looked down at the table and it disappeared. “Were you leaving?”
“Uh,” I stammered, “I was because I thought I was being stood up.”
“I feel awful. Please let me make it up to you. Let’s sit down, have a nice dinner, and get to know each other.”
I hesitate, now even more nervous than I was before.
As if sensing my hesitation, he decided to sweeten the pot a bit to persuade me, “We can even get dessert.”
I chuckle at his attempt. That’ll do it though. I sit back down with him following suit, finally starting our date.
We talked about everything. Anything and everything. No topic was off limits. Hours went by but it felt like minutes. We didn’t even know how long we’d been there until our waiter came to tell us that the restaurant was closed. We left and walked around the city until the night sky was giving way to the morning. He accompanied me back to my car, gave me the best hug I’ve ever received and a kiss on the cheek, promising we’ll get together again soon, and opening and closing my car door for me. I drove away with the biggest smile on my face and literal butterflies in my stomach. That was the best date I’d ever been on.
When I made it back to my apartment with the early morning rays peeking through my shades, I had a text message waiting for me from him. Just a simple good night, he had had an amazing time, and he couldn’t wait to see me again.
I fell asleep, hopeful. Hopeful that I would see him again, that this could maybe go somewhere. I don’t want to get ahead of myself, but it was hard not to. I hadn’t felt this way in an exceptionally long time. I haven’t been on this good of a date in equally as long. I can’t wait to see him again…
                      Present day...
I finally pull into the parking lot after an hour stuck in traffic. My 12-hour day at work today has taken a lot out of me. I’m exhausted, mentally and physically. Thankfully though, my 2-week-long vacation starts tomorrow. After that, I have fourteen days of no working, no getting up at the ass crack of dawn to be able to drive in miserable traffic, no dealing with difficult or boring co-workers. Just fourteen days of rest and relaxation, after the wedding of course.
My best friend and her fiancé are getting married on Saturday. I’ve watched them go through all of their highs and lows throughout the last few years and when he came to me telling me he planned on proposing, I couldn’t have been happier for them. He even asked me to secretly photograph the moment for her. She was more than surprised about everything.
Now their wedding is here and everyone couldn’t be more excited to celebrate them.
Tomorrow is their rehearsal dinner. The wedding party and their plus ones are all invited.
I walk into my apartment, immediately relieving myself from the confines of my shoes. A heavenly scent registers to me and I’m carried all the way to the kitchen. I see my sexy boyfriend standing at the stove with his back towards me.
“Hey babe,” he calls without turning around.
I hum, happily making my way towards him. I wrap my arms around his waist, placing a kiss on his back. “What is that unbelievable smell?”
He chuckles, vibrating through his chest. “Your favorite, of course.”
I hum again, “You spoil me, baby.”
He chuckles again, turning in my arms. His handsome face finally came into view. His gorgeous brown eyes look into mine as I get lost in his. For the past year, I’ve been the happiest I’ve been in a while. Since the day I met him, it was like everything fell into place. He’s sweet, ambitious, funny, kindhearted, passionate, and just overall the best man I had ever met. He makes me so happy…
Oh who am I kidding? He’s perfect. He is everything I ever wanted. If I made a list of all of the qualities I wanted in a husband, he would check off every single box.
But the feelings I have had for him over the last year are nothing compared to what I had in one night for him. I find myself wishing his eyes were bright blue instead of dark brown. I wish his arms were around me instead of the ones around me right now. The butterflies from that night have stayed dormant ever since.
I don’t know what happened after that night. I honestly thought we had a good time that night. Conversations flowed seamlessly. We made each other laugh so hard we had tears running down our faces. The physical connection was there- at first he had his arm around my shoulders as we walked around town, but as time went on he slowly moved lower around my waist, eventually intertwining our hands together until we arrived back at our cars. He even said that he wanted to see me again.
But I never heard from him again after that one text message. No call, no text, not even a message from my friend’s boyfriend. Nothing. I was disappointed beyond belief. I didn’t think he was that guy: the type to ditch someone without any explanation or goodbye. I thought I understood him to be a gentleman. Everything I had read about him pointed to him being one of the purest humans in the world. This was the opposite of all of that.
From that day on, I’ve loathed him. He gave me the perfect evening and then cut me off cold turkey from anything further. I have a three strike rule. His first: he was late. His second: he tricked me into liking him. His third: he lied to me. Three strikes and he’s out.
I have tried not to look back since. It’s not without its difficulties though since he’s literally everywhere. On magazine covers, in commercials, movie trailers, streaming services- he’s there. Why did he have to be such a successful actor? If he weren’t, it would make for forgetting him that much easier.
No closure. No answers. Nothing.
The rehearsal dinner went smoothly the next night which hopefully was foreshadowing for the big day itself. 
A majority of us were standing around about to start when the doors loudly being opened drew everyone’s attention away from our milling about. A man stood in the middle of the doorway then strode in like he owned the place. The closer he got, the more the details of his face came into focus.
No. Freaking. Way.
I look toward my best friend. She looked like she wasn’t shocked he was late, but she knew he was coming. I creep up behind her and clear my throat. Instantly she cringed.
“Did you forget to tell me something?” I whisper to her.
She sends me an apologetic smile, “Well, I actually put off telling you ‘cause I didn’t know how you would react and then I meant to tell you last night but with the whole ‘I’m getting married in two days’ buzz took over and now the rehearsal is here-”
“Just please tell me I’m not walking in with him.” I beg.
She chuckles nervously before she escaped to go greet him with her fiancé.
I turn to her sister who is also one of my closest friends. “Did you know he was going to be a groomsman?”
The guilt written in her face tells me everything I need to know. “She made me promise not to tell you.”
I groan, “The loyalty level around here is staggeringly low.”
I head over to where my boyfriend is standing and take comfort in his arms before I have to deal with the man who broke my heart.
“Are you okay?” He asks a little confused by my actions.
I nod, “Just tired from last night.” He chuckles at the mention of the night before, squeezing me into his chest.
“Alright everyone! Time to get started.” The wedding coordinator beckons us all to the back entrance of the barn standing next to our corresponding wedding party member. I stand right in front of the Maid of Honor and Best Man. I kept my eyes forward focusing on anything but the guy who took his place next to me.
“It’s good to see you,” He murmurs to me over the instructions of the coordinator.
I scoff and roll my eyes. He has the nerve to say that to me after two years of silence. I imagined a million times what it would be like to see him again. I’d imagined a lot of screaming with possible hitting. Or I thought about the ever-effective, old fashioned silent treatment. He doesn’t deserve to know that our one night out together effected me so much and I’ve carried a rather large torch for him ever since. At the very moment, it will be the latter, but there’s no telling what tonight and tomorrow will bring.
“Now ladies, rest- don’t grab- your hand near the crook of his arm. Men, keep your arm at that angle with an open hand resting on your stomach- no fist. And don’t forget to smile- this is a happy day!” As quickly as he showed up, the coordinator was on to the bride and her father before either of us could register he was there.
I begrudgingly did as I was instructed, “resting” my hand on his bare forearm, holding a stand-in bouquet for the occasion in my other hand.
“Are you not going to talk to me?” He speaks again but I ignore him once more.
Thankfully that was when it was our turn to walk down the aisle. For the rest of the rehearsal, he didn’t get a chance to say anything else. As soon as we were done, I go straight for my boyfriend. I figured there’s no way he would approach me if I were with another man.
We all head to the restaurant afterwards to celebrate the last night before our friends begin their lives together as husband and wife. I keep my distance from Chris, always sticking close with my boyfriend.
The one moment I was alone was when I went to the bathroom. I thought for the few minutes I wouldn’t be in danger.
However I was wrong.
As soon as I step out an arm shot out in front of me. A very pale muscular arm.
“Are you seriously going to ignore me for the next two days?”
I duck under his arm fully planning on continuing what I set out to do.
“Y/N,” he grabs my arm, “will you please talk to me? What did I do to make you so mad at me?”
I whip around hopefully sending daggers his way. “Are you serious right now?”
“She finally speaks!” He exclaims.
“Because I cannot believe what I’m hearing. Like, I don’t think I heard you right.” All of the feelings I’ve been burying for two years were making their way up to the surface and I don’t think I can stop them. “We had a fantastic night. It was literally the best night of my life, it was the most comfortable with a guy that I had ever been. You made me laugh, you gave me butterflies, you helped me feel for the first time in years.” I try to swallow down the lump that was forming in my throat. “You told me you wanted to see me again. You made me excited for the future for once in my life… and then you took it away.”
With every second that passed, his expression got closer and closer to utter defeat: his shoulders slumped, his grip on my arm loosened, his jaw slowly unclenched, his eyebrows furrowed.
“You were late,” I hold up one finger, “You tricked me,” two fingers,” “You lied to me.” Three fingers were up and in front of his face for emphasis. “Three strikes and you’re out.”
I back away from him, having nothing more I wanted to say. As soon as I turned the corner, I felt liberated… for about five seconds. When that passed, devastation hit. For the last two years, I’ve held out hope- I tried not to- but I did, that maybe someday something could happen between us. That maybe, just maybe, we could pick up where we left off that night.
Now that the moment of confrontation has come and gone, I feel all the hope fade away. All of those possibilities I pictured have left the building. Being with him is no longer an option. I have my boyfriend who makes me happy, who gives me everything I could possibly want.
The rest of the night went on without another incident. Chris kept his distance. However, I could feel his eyes on me for every second that passed as we sat at the table. It was a relief when we finally left and could retreat back to our hotel rooms for the night. The bride and I got to stay in a suite that we’ll all be getting ready in in the morning. They wanted to uphold the “not seeing each other the night before the wedding,” even though they’ve lived with each other for a year and a half now.
On the wedding day, everything went according to plan. Everyone was on time to hair and make-up, pictures went flawlessly, the weather cooperated with everything, Chris didn’t attempt to talk to me at all- it was a perfect day to watch two people who love each other commit to the other for the rest of their lives.
But then came the reception. That’s when I knew apparently all bets would be off. The ceremony was over. Niceties would wear off as more and more alcohol is consumed. I was not looking forward to it.
We make our ridiculous entrances and take our seats at the head table. We eat then speeches were made. Lots of laughs were had as the Best Man dished on stories he had with the groom growing up, a few tears were shed at her sister’s after recounting the moment the bride knew he was the man of her dreams- overall I’d say they were a success.
Again, I felt his eyes on me, burning holes in the side of my head from the other side of the groom for the entire dining portion of the evening. I kept myself from glancing in his direction, instead focusing on the conversations with the bride’s sister next to me and my boyfriend who is across the way- anything not to meet his eyes.
Finally the DJ announces it was time for all to convene on the dancefloor after the specialty dances. I immediately see my boyfriend start to stand, knowing he’d been ready for this all night. I’d been looking forward to dancing with him all night as well, I even removed my shoes in anticipation. As I stand up, a hand is held out in front of me. I knew whose hand it was. I remember staring at it as he would rub his lips on our date. The strength of it as it intertwined with mine as we walked down the streets of our town, the safeness I felt as he squeezed it if he detected I was getting anxious around a group of people and I needed the reassurance. I knew that hand well, unfortunately.
“Dance with me?” He nearly whispers in my ear. I didn’t realize he was that close until I could feel said whisper on my neck. I contain the shiver that runs down my spine at how husky his voice is. God I’ve missed that…
No! I will not be enchanted by him again. He does not deserve me.
I exhale the breath I was holding, it comes out a lot harsher than I expected. “No, thank you.” I turn away from him, but his hand gently grabs my arm stopping me from going any further.
He whispers again, “He’s not good enough for you,” before walking away.
I’m frozen in place. I glare at his retreating back as he makes his way over to the bar. My mouth hangs open in disbelief. How dare he… How fucking dare he assume anything about me or my relationship. He doesn’t know anything about what our relationship is like. My boyfriend treats me so well, spoils me even though I know I don’t deserve it. He listens to me, he cares about me, and he makes me laugh until I cry- he’s everything I’ve wanted in a man. Chris is the one who had his chance and subsequently blew it. He has no right to judge or even comment on my relationship when he knows absolutely nothing about it.
I hurriedly make my way to my awaiting boyfriend and pull him onto the crowded dancefloor. “You okay?” He asks me, “Did he say something to upset you?”
“Nothing worth repeating.” All I wanted to do was forget about him and his irrelevant feelings towards my relationship…
…Except I couldn’t. His words rattled me. Does he see something I don’t? He told me on our date that he’s an excellent judge of character so he wouldn’t say something like that unless he got a bad feeling, right? Either that or he said it just to get under my skin and force me to talk to him. No matter the reason I hate him for it because my pride won’t let it stand.
I spot him leaning against the bar, staring directly at the two of us over the rim of his glass. His perfect eyebrow quirks up at the eye contact, that sets my blood to boiling. He thinks he’s so smug. I wish I could just slap that stupid hidden smirk right off his perfect face…
Following a few dances, I mutter something about him going to dance with the bride to my boyfriend before exiting the dancefloor. I rush out of the barn, away from the crowd needing some air from his suffocating gaze. I find a little lit area that’s perfect for pictures. There are rectangular hay bales set together as a makeshift U-shaped bench with some low watt bulbs strung up above between two poles. It would be serene if I weren’t already on edge.
After taking a few deep breaths, I finally feel like I can speak without yelling. “You had no right.”
I didn’t have to turn around to know he followed me out here. It’s exactly what I wanted him to do, just like it was his intention to get under my skin. As much as I wished to avoid this conversation it seems that we can’t go on without it. We may tear each other apart in the process, but this is my chance for closure. This is my only opportunity to get the answers I’ve been needing to move on for the past two years. Two years of wondering what went wrong after the most perfect date I’ve ever been on with an equally perfect man has been eating at my heart and mind. I hated always wondering “what if” or “what would I be doing right now if I were with him” especially when I started dating my boyfriend. I had no answers as to why those questions could not be. I thought with time I’d stop asking them, thinking I’d never see the man again. He’s a big movie star, why would he wonder about a woman he went on one date with?
As I expected, his deep baritone voice comes behind me, but his words do little to ease my nerves. In fact they set them off even more so than before. “I’m sorry.”
I scoff at his half-hearted apology, knowing he doesn’t mean it at all. “Oh bite me, Christopher.” I turn around to face him. God he looks even better out here. The subtle gold glow from the lights are complimenting his skin tone, they make his baby blues shine which just frustrates me more.
“Please, Y/N,-” He takes a step closer to me, but I won’t have that. 
“No,” I take a step back keeping the needed distance between us for fear I may strangle him. “I don’t want to hear any of your bullshit excuses. You had no right to pass judgment on a relationship that you know absolutely nothing about.”
He slips his hands into the pockets of his dress pants. “Oh, I’ve seen enough.”
“Really?” I jut my hip out, resting my hand on it. “In the two days you’ve been here, you think you’ve got us all figured out?”
“Yes,” he answers with conviction. 
My shaking hands clench into fists, trying my damnedest not to lose control. I entangle them into my hair as best as I can without ruining the work the hairstylist did this morning before running them down my face. He has some nerve. 
“We had one night. One night! One nearly perfect night together and suddenly that makes you an expert on what is good for me?”
“I wouldn’t say ‘an expert’-”
“I wouldn’t say anything!” I interrupt, “I never heard from you again. Now after two years, you come in here acting like you know anything about me or my relationship? Who do you think you are?”
“A man who made a mistake!” He snaps.
There was a long pause. I never expected to hear that from him. All these years I wanted to think the worst of him for leaving me hanging like that. He got my hopes up, thinking we may have a future together only for them to come crashing back down to Earth when he never contacted me again. I wondered and wondered if maybe I read the signals wrong. Maybe I took his flirting as more than it was. Maybe the small gestures like his arm around my shoulders, on the small of my back, or the hand holding were only him being friendly. I wracked my brain going over every single detail of the night to try and pinpoint a reason for him not to have called me afterwards. I found nothing, which was equally as frustrating.
“Alright, I made a mistake.” He moves to sit on one of the hay bales. He rests his elbows on his knees and buries his head in his hands, letting out a huge sigh. “God I wanted everything with you.”
Once again, I’m frozen by his words. He what? But that doesn’t make sense. His words and his actions don’t line up- how could that be?
He removes his hands from his face, staring at the grass. “After that night, I wanted it all. I wanted to settle down, get the house with a white picket fence in the suburbs, carry you through the threshold after our wedding day, bring our children home from the hospital, watch them grow until we’re old and gray. I wanted everything.”
My heart aches. All of that was exactly what I wanted, especially with him. I could feel the tears building behind my eyes, my heart breaking mourning the loss of what we could have had by now if he had only said something.
I also find my anger growing as well. If he felt all of that, why did he not contact me again? Why did he give me hope that our night out together could have been the start of something good and then taken it away just as quickly?
“But?” There had to be a “but” coming after his statement. Clearly something stopped him from pursuing the possibility of “us,” destroying any future we could have had.
He sighs, “but…” he finally looks up at me with more emotion in his eyes than I was expecting. There was contemplation, confusion, honesty, agony…
I look away. In an instant I knew what he was about to say. It makes complete sense. He was at the height of his career, shooting movie after movie all around the world for a majority of the year. How would he have had time to have a relationship mixed in with that? He couldn’t.
“Your career was more important,” I interject, “I get it. I do.” I couldn’t fault him for choosing work over someone he just met, no matter how much he claims to have liked me right off the bat. He was going to be busy. We probably wouldn’t have had a lot of time to see each other. It’s not like I could give up my career to follow him. Besides even if I could have, he wouldn’t want that. He said so himself. He wanted someone who was independent; who could do their own thing and not be enveloped in his crazy life.
He stands up and steps closer to me, “no, that wasn’t it. I promise you that wasn’t it.”
There’s that word. Promise. He promised we’d see each other again soon after our night together. But he broke that.
“Then what was it?” My voice cracks at the end. I can feel my reserves slipping the more he speaks. I didn’t realize how much I missed his voice until now. I haven’t seen any of the movies he’s been in the last few years. I have him and his hashtag blocked on all social media platforms so I don’t see anything of his on any of my timelines. My other friends think I don’t like him (only my best friend and her now husband know about our date). To hear it again brings back all of the good memories we made together in that short night and all of the emotions I’ve been holding back since. “I have been wracking my brain for years wondering what went wrong after that.”
“I got scared,” he finally admits the truth. “I got scared of how much I liked you and how much I wanted to protect you.”
“From what?”
“From me,” he casts his gaze down at his hands as he fidgets with them, “and my life. I didn’t want to subject you to the chaos that is my life. I know what my fans would do to you if we were in a relationship, I was trying to protect you from all of the ugly that being with me comes with.”
So that’s what he was afraid of? He was afraid our relationship would inevitably end exactly like his last one? His “fans” were horrible to her. They sent death threats to her and her family members, always commenting negatively on her social media pages all because she was dating him. I remember reading about it right after it happened. I knew that side of his fandom was toxic. But did I care? No. Did I think I couldn’t handle it? I honestly don’t know, but would I have been willing to deal with it for him? Yes. I would have given up anything to be with him. That’s precisely why he did what he did. He didn’t want me giving anything up for him because he knows I’d be giving up any semblance of privacy I had if I were in a public relationship with him.
If I had known these were the reasons why he ghosted me, I would have been broken hearted but I would have understood. Hell, I probably would have fallen more in love with him if I knew that, not fallen in loathe.
He continues, “I thought that if I never contacted you again, you could move on”- he clears his throat-“and find someone better than me who could give you the normal life you deserve. Which as much as I wish I couldn’t, I see that you have…” he pauses as if deciding whether he should keep speaking. When I don’t stop him, he does, “But I can’t help feeling like that could have been me.”
My slightly shaky hands cover his fidgeting ones. His hand moves until he’s intertwining our fingers together, palms touching. They fit perfectly together as if they were each other’s missing puzzle piece. His thumbs stroke mine sending warmth down my arms all the way down to my toes. The sparks I felt back then return with full force. He leans down, pressing his forehead against mine. My heart is beating out of my chest, I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t feel it in some way.
I feel my heart break in my chest. My lip quivers and the tears threaten to make themselves known. My only saving grace is the fact that he can’t see my face. I may lose it completely if he did.
His breath is coming out equally as shaky between us, he squeezes my hands as if he doesn’t want me to let go. Believe me, I don’t want to. I bring one of our interlocked hands up to my lips. I kiss the back of his hand because I can’t kiss him where I want to. I pull back just enough to see his beautiful baby blues that could have any woman in the world swoon. They were terribly bloodshot right now but that only made them more tragically breathtaking. I tear one of my hands out of his and bring it to his cheek. He leans into it, a tear drops into the crevices between the contact.
The barely above whisper that came out was all I could muster without having a total breakdown because he’s right. It could have been him. We could have been something great. We could have built a life together. We could have had it all. And it broke my heart into a million pieces knowing all of this could have been avoided if life had handed both of us different lives.
“It almost was.”
~*~
Taglist: @the-marvel-wars​ @elusive-beauty​ @drakesfiance @im-a-slut-for-an-accent​ @fantasy-is-my-reality​ @princess-evans-addict​
232 notes · View notes
monolid-monologues · 5 years
Text
Wtf is going on - Part I.
#12.
READY OR NOT..............
The next three weeks feel impossible. 
My KNEES are KNOCKING.
TOO MUCH IS HAPPENING
Fuck!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I’m losing my mind lol. I’m going to take myself through this week by week. Breaking up my next 3 blog posts into a Three part series, and i’m going to slowly tread wtf is going on.
1.) MY JOB, MY LIFE
Karina and i drove LA >> Oakland >> LA in one day to audition for 5 minutes. LoL. We’re crazy and we know that. The troubling fact is this job means quitting my current one and moving to Oakland.
In February at the festival in Oregon, we were invited to audition for Kaiser Permanente’s Educational Theatre. They employ actors to perform shows for kids.
It pays more than my current job. It is less stable than my current job.
I’m TERRIFIED of having *that* conversation with my dad, and my office.
Desperate to avoid a serving job (having worked them since i was 16), i approached my dad for a job at his company. He knows about me and theater. He knew to be cautious. He asked me commit 2 years. I promised my dad 2 years; it’s only been 6 months. There’s a voice in my head chiding me for even considering this new opportunity.
And part of me is very very resistant to the reality of this new opportunity. Moving to Oakland means moving away from Robin, from Heather, from my studio, from all the work i’ve been doing in L.A to lay down some roots. Working full time at a corporate theater. Suffering bay area rent. Potentially losing my dad’s support (he is helping me with car and insurance payments). And pouring so much time into someone else’s theater. And potentially neglecting my own dreams -- risk of being too burnt, busy and broke to manifest my own theater projects. Not to mention all my fears around the importance of artistic freedom to me and needing to comply with a higher authority for paycheck’s sake (literal nightmare). And i just, might, very well, possibly, end up hating the job. 
I fear breaking my promise. Going back on my word. Owning up to the fact that i am not the loyal bitch we hoped i was. I fear these feelings of betrayal. I fear upsetting my dad and losing his support. I fear the disrespect i am slamming on my director & cecillia’s time and energy and trust in me. I fear that there is no “good” decision, but i can see Regret sitting atop my worst case scenario and i’m afraid that it doesn’t even really matter how things go, whether i stay or go, it’s all a sticky situation. 
If i get the job, but don’t go, i am still at the office. Sitting. So much sitting............clutching my small studio time like the life jacket it is...
If i get the job and want go, well, fuck, that’s a lot of, fuck. Can i put my independent theater dreams on hold? Is this experience worth pursuing? Is it worth upsetting my entire life here? Wow. Since when did i get so attached to my life here? I’ve worked so hard since i’ve been here, to seek, and seek, and plan, and build. I’ve been planning for my life here in L.A. I NeVER imagined relocating this soon. Turning my life upside down when i’ve literally JUST managed to get it looking right-side-up. f$&%@#$!
OKAY Normally, i’d wait to see if i got called back to start worrying. But this opportunity requiring 600 mile drives, requiring me and karina to rearrange chunks of our lives, to even be considered for the job, makes every step in the audition process so costly o_o.  We’re asking ourselves “if we do get called back, how are we even going to get there?”  We’re investing and sacrificing for a huge Maybe. Even pursuing the possibility is TOO MUCH!!!! yet here we are. Why? Why am i this crazy about a maybe?
L.A.’S BEEN GROWING ON ME. AND I MIGHT NOT GET THE JOB. LET’S KEEP IT SIMPLE, STUPID -- 
Tomorrow, we will find out if we’re called back. If we’re called back, the one thing i need to do (the scariest fkn thing ok) is ask for another day off (to secretly attend). If god blesses me with a Yes and my director is NOT fed up with my bullshit, the next thing is figuring out how tf to get there.  And that’s it. That’s it. That’s it. For now.
* * *
An interlude.)
What changes when i decide i’m tired of doubting myself? Staying off social media is a great relief. I stepped back because i was starting to carry some duty to entertain or cater to the tastes of the people who engage with what i post. The anxiety that begins to stir between myself and thoughts of people far away -- with heavy social media comes this baggage we pick up and hold nearly voluntarily. 
Just as we are curious how someone else’s life is going, we imagine other people are curious about ours. 
We second-guess what we want to post.  When it’s about what we want to share in the first place. How anybody receives it is their business. Leave them tf ALONE, LOL. Leave YOURSELF alone!
If it’s your career, you chase one of few formulas. If it’s your hobby, you draw from these formulas and mix in your personal flavor of “idgaf”. And if it’s mostly irrelevant to what you do/what you want, you’re not even bothered. *shrug* 
Every fuckin body will tell you, people who don’t frequent social media are happier. 
Do you think so? Do we think so?  I’m skeptical.  It’s easy to believe, given how much (admit it) time and attention social media sucks. But actually? Let’s be clear: who can know? Lol. The very point around people who don’t use social media is they are beyond the reach of our prying eyes. They are safe, much less susceptible to the wandering imagination of a distant relationship. They are out of bounds. 
Sometimes i wish i was that kind of person. Whoever that means.
I’m not. 
There’s something about getting to show something to hundreds of people. There’s something about connections waiting to be made. Paths that could cross. Click-holes where we lean outside of our usual environments. We are open to exposure and being exposed. We are creative with our public image. We narrate our own lives. We seek others’. ThaT PART. That part. “I will engage!!!!!!!!!!” 
Is it possible to have a healthy relationship with social media?
What does that look like?
There’s so much in our culture that discourages social media use - from mental health to physical health - we are told every day what the pitfalls are. We know it ourselves in living our lives. The common denominator to these warnings is usually over-consumption. Too much. Much too much.
If we are using social media, we are at risk. We know the risks. We live with the risks. ALAS -  we believe we can manage the time/space distortion that the social media universe rips into our lives. 
With social media comes this massive gravitational pull sucking us into a manufactured world. This tech, as far as i’m concerned, insanely complicates our lives - adding data to bodies, instant X long distance everything, and a level of productivity concerning online metrics that is often inversely proportional to our productivity offline. 
The most estranged relationships continue to fizzle quietly with mutual following. Our brains buzz “To post or not to post”. And our eyes are getting tired, our thumbs sore; our time and attention sinks and slips away from us. Like retribution for the discontent, disinterest, and laziness we risk habituating with social media.
We give access and have access and the ride is crippling or energizing depending on whatever people or time in your life. 
Do the rewards outweigh the risks?
* * *
II. SHOWTIME
IT’S GO TIME.
While i’m floundering in the dark about my job, my life, March is ending soon and come April comes the premiere and one-month-run of my new production, 1-800-PERFECTION. 
This is my first show in socal. My first show outside of Davis. My first full solo work. My first script-based PLAY in YEARS.
March Timeline:
meeting with studio manager to settle performance dates (today)
last full rehearsal (3/24 SAT)
tech rehearsal with Heather (3/30 SAT)
preview performance w/ talk back (3/31 SUN) YOU’RE INVITED. [email protected] | please come! TIME: 1-3pm LOCATION: 1183 Kraemer Blvd, Anaheim, CA
April Timeline:
Dress Rehearsal  (week 1, TBD)
1st Show (week 2, TBD)
2nd show (week 3, TBD)
3rd Show (week 4, TBD) Tickets: $12 venmo  (seat reserved) or $10 cash at door (exact change!!!)
My radical marketing plan is to do it in person.  I wanna shit my pants thinking about it, but i’m determined to go out there into public places and invite people to my show face 2 face. I will certainly let you know how it goes. The experience may turn up a giant dumpster fire. :-)
Common questions when opening a new work include: what if ppl hate it? what if i hate it? what if no one comes? what if this is the end of my reputation as an artist as we know it? as i know it? what if i’m not ready? 
What if i didn’t rehearse enough? THIS ONE’S BEEN HAUNTING ME.
My best friend asks me how long i’ve been working on this play. I tell her i can afford 20 hours of studio time a month. It’s been almost 4 months now. And then she’s like, isn’t 20 hours...less than a day?  *brain explodes* Have i only worked on my show for LESS THAN 4 DAYS? IS IT LIKE THAT? 
It has been living, growing, changing with me day to day. But of course, 20 hours is really it of dedicated work time/space. 5 hours a week. 
I am used to working 30 hours per weeeeeek on a show.  that’s what i’m used to.
....................................................
I remember when i first found this studio offering exactly what i was looking for and could afford, i was ELATED to get 20 hours a month. Considering the ZERO work i was doing my first 2 months back in LA -- Getting 1 step closer to where i would be today - on the cusp of running a whole original ass show - was mooooreee than enough. 
But this is honestly one worry out of SO MANY, literally so many, that it’s all looking - sounding - and feeling increasingly ridiculous. because there’s just so much. *laugh cry emoji* * * * I’m never going to forget what i signed up for. Everything on my plate, i set up for myself.
Was i ready for all of this? No. Did i dream this up and seek its fruition? Hell yes. Even i know that only time will tell me What was What.  So, i will take it one fkn day at a time.
Maybe this is a lesson to follow your dreams no matter what, precisely BECAUSE you’ll never be ready for it. I can’t imagine being ready for what i’m going through these days. There’s no fucking way i could’ve known how stickyyyy things could get when i made my first studio payment in December, or asked my dad for a job in October.
But go through with it, we will, because we’ve reached the point where we must. I’m. Not. Looking. Back.
BUT I AM REALLY TRYING TO TAKE CARE OF MY HEALTH WHILE I’M WHIZZING ACROSS THE STATE AND PREPARING ALL THE SHOW THINGS. WISH ME SOME HONEST LUCK ON THAT.
So, I don’t have a dramatic poignant closer for you on this one. Let’s, uh, give that to Part 3, when we wrap this whole mess up. (ie. is Oakland rlly happening? how was canvassing the brea mall to advertise my show LMAO? did i lose my damn mind, or nah?)
Tumblr media
Hi.  I just want to say, thank you for reading. Really. thank you.
I think my writing is suffering from the craziness atm.
* * *
i’ve committed to being vulnerable in writing every week.
previous letter: #11. detox,
drop me a line
http://monolid-monologues.tumblr.com/ask
1 note · View note
jessssrrodriguez · 6 years
Text
I don’t know what this is. Idk if it’s hopeless or if it’s fate. The unknown is scary. I don’t know what he wants and if what he wants is only temporary. I hope I’m much more than just someone to pass the time with until he potentially finds something else. I have no idea where I stand.
Our story is enchanting, but I may be the only one who sees it that way.
We met for the very first time in 2012 at a Halloween party at my friend’s house in SF. I was dressed as Gwen Stacy from The Amazing Spiderman. I didn’t know anyone there except my friend who was hosting. During the party, he approached me as I sat on the couch. He was dressed in regular clothes so I asked him who he was supposed to be. He said he was Spiderman. I laughed and rolled my eyes and said, “no, really.” And sure enough, from his pocket he pulled out a Spiderman mask. He was literally the Spiderman to my Gwen Stacy. I was intrigued by him. I couldn’t explain it, but it felt almost “meant to be.”
Later my friend pulled me aside and said she saw me talking to him. She asked what I thought of him and gave me a little background on him. She said he was originally going to be one of their housemates but it didn’t work out, but that he was a really cool guy and somehow or another he and her housemates all became friends. She said he was recently single, studying pre-med and she thought I should date him. I told her I thought he was attractive but that it would be insane to try dating someone who lived so far away. And that was that..
Or so I thought. 
Fast forward 2 years and I get asked by my friend if I want to go on a trip to Utah. Completely out of the blue and a completely random suggestion. I gave it some thought and I said sure, why not. She said a couple of her guy friends were organizing the trip and it would be really fun. She said I met one of them before, a few years ago at her Halloween party. I honestly hadn’t thought of him since then. But I was excited. 
The Utah roadtrip was amazing. It was so much fun. It was just 4 of us, me, my friend, him and his best friend. We hiked and laughed and played games and took pictures. It was a week I’ll never forget. And he and I still had some kind of spark 2 years later. It was palpable. We would tease each other and bicker and flirt. There was something absolutely there. But again, our trip was over and that was that.
Shortly after our trip, he invited me and my friend to come along for another trip to Alaska in the summer. I was on board but my friend was planning to study abroad in Paris. I didn’t really want to go without her but I also wondered when I’d ever have an opportunity to see Alaska again. I also wanted to experience my first flight on a plane. So I decided to seize the moment and said I was in. We planned it for months. This trip it was me, him and his best friend. I was nervous to be going by myself with these two guys but my excitement for this opportunity was stronger than my fear.
When the time finally came, I drove all the way down to LA by myself to stay with him before the morning of our flight. I arrived around dinnertime and I was SOOOO nervous to see him again in person. But it was easy and fun. We had dinner out and then he took me to the Santa Monica Pier because I had never seen it before. We walked around the pier and then walked down to the beach. We made our way up to an abandoned lifeguard post and stood up there watching the sunset together with the ferris wheel lit up in the background and the waves crashing in front of us. We talked about our past relationships and what didn’t work and got to understand and know each other a little better. We stayed there until the sun went down and then out of the blue, he went in for a kiss. It was romantic, something straight out of a movie. Then we drove back to his place and played with his guitar, watched a movie and cuddled and kissed until we fell asleep. 
And then I had a whole week with him. He held my hand for my first flight take-off and landing. We shared an air mattress in the tent. It felt like we were a couple the entire trip. But then reality started to hit when we were going back home. We had a red-eye flight and I remember struggling to sleep the entire time and wanting to freeze time. We held hands the entire flight home and he fell asleep on my shoulder. 
When we got back, he (S) had to work so I hung out with his best friend ( C) all day in Venice Beach. S gave me his house key incase I needed it. While I hung out with his best friend ( C) I tried to ask questions to see whether C knew if S was ready for anything with anyone. C told me he thought that S was only looking for something casual at the time. Disappointed and not looking to deepen the wound, I went back to S’s apartment, gathered my things and then went to his office. I met him outside with his key and told him I probably shouldn’t stay, even though I’d like to. And while he hugged me goodbye I tried to hold back my tears. He told me not to be sad and promised me we’d go to Europe together.  
I saw him again a month after our trip because he had a conference in the bay area and we stayed with my friend in Berkeley. I cuddled him in the morning before it was time to say goodbye. We kissed each other one last time and headed two separate ways. That was that. No dramatic ending, no dramatic goodbye. More of a “see you later,” I guess. And it felt like that-- like I would just see him later.
Shortly after around Halloween, he had posted some new photos on Facebook. He was with a girl. They had a cute couple costume and my heart sunk. I watched him move on and watched them go on beautiful trips all over the world, wishing it had been me.
Fast forward 3 years later... Present day. At the end of November. I woke up from a dream and in the dream he told me he had just broken up with his girlfriend. He was there apologizing to me for how things ended up, asking if we could try things again. He told me that he would’ve liked to see where things could’ve gone but the distance seemed like an impossible feat at the time. And I woke up and felt strange. I thought to myself, “man, if that were to happen in real life, I might actually give it another shot.” I even texted one of my best friends to tell her what I dreamt. And after that dream and my growing curiosity, I decided to check his Facebook page. He was single. And it looked like it had just happened. I texted my friend again and she was shocked. She said if he reached out in a month that I was psychic. To my surprise, a few weeks down the line, he did. 
It feels a little like fate doesn’t it? Idk if I believe in that type of thing.. But here I am now. Somehow or another our brief catching up turned into chatting everyday to discussing meeting up to actually meeting up.
New Years Day, I saw him again for the first time in 3 years. And it was like it had always been. The connection or attraction or whatever it is between us was still there. We were like magnets. 
And now I’m confused, wondering if timing has always been our problem and maybe this time it’ll work out. Perhaps it’s not quite as romantic as I idealize in my head. I DON’T KNOW. But I like where this is going so far and I’m just gonna roll with it, I guess. Even though it’s possible this may amount to nothing.
2 notes · View notes
rhina988 · 7 years
Text
Indecent Proposal - Chapter 7
Read from the beginning
Read Chapter 6
Melody’s POV
I woke up the next morning, and at first it was weird being in someone else’s bed. I opened my eyes and looked over my shoulder to see Jared sitting in the bed and scrolling through his phone. I sighed a little and rubbed my eyes.
“Good morning sleepyhead,” Jared said and chuckled.
“Morning,” I yawned and rolled on my back raising my arms to stretch. The cover was spread only over my knees, and the rest of my body was bear. I’ve always been a restless sleeper, so I hope Jared didn’t feel like he was sleeping through an earthquake.
“Well, I guess you’re pretty comfortable, huh,” he looked at my body and smiled. What I didn’t realized is that my shorts was all the way up, looking like I only had my underwear on, and my shirt barely covered my boobs, slightly showing off the bottom part of them.
“Oh shit!” I gasped and pulled the cover all over me.
“That’s OK, I don’t mind,” Jared was being smug again.
“Yeah, but I do... ugh...” I covered all over my head and huffed under the sheets.
“You should really get out under there, or you’ll suffocate,” Jared said and nudged me a little.
“I can’t I’m embarrassed,” I almost squealed. Jared kept silent, but I could feel him smirking. I peeked over the cover and saw Jared occupied with his phone, not paying attention to me.  “I should get up and dress, we have a long day ahead of us” , I said as I slid off the bed and ran into the bathroom.
After I’ve freshen up I got out and picked out the wardrobe for the day. As I was getting my jeans and black blouse, I looked at Jared hoping he’ll go to the bathroom so I could get dressed, but he just laid on the bed.
“Aren’t you gonna go take a shower,” I said as I looked at him, taking the blouse out of the suitcase.
“I already did. I’ve been up for quite some time, ” he answered not taking his eyes off the phone.
“Oh...OK” I said and walked towards the bathroom again. I couldn’t dress in front of him.
“You do realize I’m gonna have to see you naked eventually, right,” Jared asked and I immediately froze. I took a deep breath and gulped.
“What did you just say,” I said with the voice filled with tremble and fear.
“You heard me,” he said through a cocky grin, then lifted his head and looked at me “marital duties, and all that” he said and wiggled his eyebrows.
I literally started shaking, but I didn’t want to let him know this comment affected me. I wouldn’t give him the pleasure of seeing me hurt again.
“Ha, in your dreams,” I said sternly and went to the bathroom. He said something but I couldn’t hear what, since I was in the bathroom within less than a second.
Now there was no doubt. Jared was set to turn my life into a living hell. But what if he actually meant what he said? Does he really expect me to have sex with him after we’re married? I couldn’t ... I have never...
Knock, knock
“Are you alright in there,” Jared knocked on the door and kept me away from my thoughts.
“Yes, why” I snapped at him.
“I couldn’t hear a thing, so I thought you might’ve ran through the window,” he giggled.
“I’m getting dressed Jared, I’ll be right out”, I said and zipped my jeans. I looked myself in the mirror, put on a bit of make-up and combed my hair. It was slightly wavy, and all I had to do is spray a bit of dry shampoo to add volume, and it was ready. 
I got out of the bathroom, and Jared was finishing his outfit. He stared at me, and slightly smiled.
“What?” I asked and widened my eyes, expecting him to tease me about my outfit or something.
“Um...” he cleared his throat, and shook his head, “Nothing... just that... you look nice, that’s all”, he said and put his triad necklace on.
“Thanks... I think”, I said and frowned. I was completely taken aback with the comment.
Then we both went to the living room expecting to see Emma there, having the plan for today ready.
“Morning lovebirds,” she said and smiled.
“Please Emma,” I said and rolled my eyes taking a deep breath.
“Morning, Em,” Jared said and chuckled. He obviously enjoyed this whole circus.
I sat on the couch and Jared set right next to me placing his arm right behind my head, and then slowly putting it over my shoulder bringing me closely to him. I just looked at him with the sternest look in the world, and frowned.
“C’mon wifey, don’t run away from me,” he said and pulled me closer giving me tickles.
“Stop that, we’re not married yet, and even when we become I don’t want you to do that... I hate tickling...” I said and tried to get out of his arms, but he was so damn strong, so I just stayed put letting his arm lay on my shoulder.
“You two are adorable,”. Emma said and chuckled as I crossed my arms over my chest.
“So, what are we doing today,” I was curious.
“Considering the front lawn is filled with paparazzi, you two should go out and be seen in public. Breakfast, coffee, whatever... as long as they make pictures of you I’m fine”, Emma said and left the room.
“Great” I sighed and got off the couch.
“So, are you hungry? Thirsty? Where would you like to go,” Jared asked and looked at me, while he still sat down.
I stood with my back turned to him, so I just whispered to myself hoping he wouldn’t hear, ”Home”.
“What was that,” Jared asked with the sweetest voice.
“I don’t really care where we go, as long as we’re done fast,” I wanted to go see Jamie as soon as possible, so I hoped today’s outing won’t take long.
“Fine, we’ll have breakfast then” he said and we were out in a couple of minutes.
As we got out of the house, the paparazzi almost threw themselves at the car. These people were insane. They were in their cars and on their scooters in no time, not wasting a second, following us all the way to the bistro Jared liked to go to. We got there, stepped out of the car holding hands, to make this more real in a way, and barely made it inside, because the photographers were crowding the entire entrance.
“Jeez, they’re relentless,” I said and walked behind Jared still holding his hand. He looked me over the shoulder and smiled.
“This is just the beginning,” we were finally at our table away from the window, which was odd.
“How come we didn’t sit next to the window,” I was confused.
“No need. They’ve seen enough for now,” he said and we ordered food as the waiter approached.
“Can you drop me over to the hospital after we’re done,” I asked him.
“Why do you have to go to the hospital,” he was suddenly worried.
“Um... I just need to get my results from yesterday,” I lied in a blink of an eye.
“Oh, sure, I’ll drive you and take you back home”.
“No need, I can come back by myself, it can take some time,” I wanted to stay with Jamie for a while, and I couldn’t do that with Jared waiting for me.
He frowned and didn’t understand why I reacted the way I did. The waiter brought us food and we had an amazing breakfast. Jared had his vegan portion, while I enjoyed an omelette with vegetables. We didn’t talk much, but we exchanged a couple of looks that I couldn’t quite decipher. I used to see only malice and pride in his eyes, but now when I looked at him his eyes were warm and it appeared as if he didn’t see me the way he did before. I had the feeling something changed in him.
We were done, and Jared took care of the check, so we could leave. He took my hand and took me outside.
“Don’t say anything, just follow my lead,” he said and wrapped his arm around my shoulder bringing me closer to him. I took his hand as it rested on my shoulder, and I intertwined my fingers with his, walking as if I was attached to his body. The moment we stepped outside the bistro, I could feel his eyes on me, so I lifted my head and looked back at him. We were walking by the reporters and he slightly leaned his head to mine brushing my lips with his. Somehow, I got caught up in the moment and kissed him back softly. I could feel him smiling during the kiss, which instantly brought me back to reality. I opened my eyes and saw him smirking at me.
“You said to follow your lead, right” I asked, trying not be so obvious that I kinda liked his kiss.
“Mhm, yeah. Good job,” he said and pulled me closer.
---
We drove off to the hospital and he parked the car in the garage, even though I told him back at the bistro, that I don’t want him to wait for me.
“Thanks, I’ll see you at home” I said and unbuckled the seat belt.
“That’s OK, I’ll wait.”
“No, Jared, you don’t have to...”
“I’ll wait. The conversation is over”, he said and took his phone to kill time.
“Fine,” I said through gritted teeth, as my phone buzzed. It was Karol. I hope everything is OK with Jack and Jamie.
Jared’s POV
I had the feeling Melody was hiding something from me, so I decided to wait for her. But when her phone rang, her face instantly turned white, so I knew something was wrong. I thought I should follow her inside instead of waiting in the car. As she picked up the phone, I walked out of the car and waited a second to follow her, without her noticing me. I heard her saying “On the third floor? OK, thanks”, so I knew where to find her even if she escapes my sight.
I went to the third floor, walking slightly behind her when I saw her walking in a room. But it wasn’t the doctor’s office. Melody came to visit someone. I was standing right in front of the room trying to hear who she was talking to.
“Hey Karen, did he wake up earlier,” she asked the woman sitting by the bed in which a young man was lying.
“Hey, sweetheart, yes he woke up just when I came here, but he fall back asleep. They say it’s normal. He won’t be able to wake completely up for a day or so.”
“And Jack? How is he holding on?”
“Great, he’s much better now, and will recover soon.”
“That’s great news,” Melody sighed in relief. But who were these people?
“Melody, sweetie, can I ask you a question”, the woman said.
“Of course Karen, anything.”
“How did you get the money for the surgery?”
Oh my God! Is this how she used the $250 000 I had given her? She paid that guy’s surgery. That’s why she accepted my offer. To save that young man’s life. Wow, I couldn’t believe it. This girl just took my breath away completely. She’s like a modern day superwoman.
“I just cashed in my pay check for the entire year, in advance,” she said and giggled. But I could tell the giggle was fake and that she actually felt trapped. 
Now I felt horrible somehow. I gave her such a hard time when all she did was being the sweetest girl in the world. What the hell is the matter with me? How could I have such an incredible urge to hurt her, when all I should do is love her and make her the happiest woman in the world? I immediately went back to the car so Melody  wouldn’t see me here. She would probably leave soon, so I wouldn’t call her or come for her. As I was walking out of the hospital I dialed Emma.
“Hey, I need your help, it’s an emergency,” I said and went to the car to wait for Melody.
Reader’s POV
“I don’t understand,” Karen said after I told her about the way I got the money for the surgery.
“It doesn’t really matter Karen. All that matters is that Jamie’s getting better,” I tried to change the subject and leave so Jared wouldn’t come to look for me. “Look, I’m really in over my head with work today, so I should leave. Please let me know if he wakes up today, and I’ll be here”
“OK, honey, I’ll see you later. Thank you for coming,” Karen said and gave me a hug.
I got out of the hospital and saw Jared leaning against the hood of his car, waiting for me. He seemed kinda happy. His look was so warm and cheerful. It was pretty awkward.
“Hey, sorry it took me a while.”
“That’s OK, how are the results? Are you OK?”
“Um... they’re not done yet, that’s why I was inside for so long. I have to come back tomorrow too, and then...”
“That’s fine, I can take you here tomorrow as well. Let’s go home now.” He interrupted me and that was the last thing I needed to hear. I can’t have him follow me everywhere. Jamie will be up tomorrow and I need to spend more time with him.
“You don’t have to bother with that, I could come alone.” I insisted.
Jared just looked at me, and I knew exactly what he meant by that. There was no chance he’d let me come alone.
We drove back home, and couldn’t wait to see if anyone posted the pictures of us. We walked inside the living room and there Emma and Shannon were. They seemed pretty content.
“So?” Jared asked Emma.
“Perfect, everything is perfect. You two are all over the internet, and that’s everything they’re talking about” Emma was more than pleased. “Jared, I called the je...”
“That’s great Emma,” Jared interrupted her as if she said something she wasn’t supposed to.
“Look, we should go record and you two, get to work. Just because you’re gonna be Mrs. Leto, it doesn’t mean you can lay back the whole day” Jared was being an idiot again.
I just ignored his comment and got to work. Emma was all over the place, which wasn’t unusual, but she was kinda nervous at the same time. That WAS awkward. At one point she and Jared went somewhere and were gone for almost two hours. When they got back, they were both really excited and acted weird around me. Did Emma and Jared kept something from me? It definitely seemed as if they did.
Read Chapter 8 
Feel free to comment and leave feedback.
Let me know if you’d like me to tag you in the next chapters.
Hope you enjoyed it.
@legolasothranduilion @chris-evans-whaaat @woohooargentina-blog @nikkitasevoli @wolfgirl1074 @snewsome756 @leto-madness @iamthejaredleto @notjanelle @spaceshipteam44 @sanellv @lanfear619
63 notes · View notes
bloggy-hell · 7 years
Text
We need to talk about 13 Reasons Why.
Tumblr media
13 Reasons Why (2017): Receiving a 9.1 on imdb and bucketloads of media attention, this new Netflix release has earned a place on everyone's ‘to-watch list’ as it seems like we all want to know what the big deal is about a show that retraces the steps of a suicidal 17 year old.
Quick, Non Spoliery Synopsis by Yours Truly:
A 17 year old girl; Hannah Baker organises the circulation of 13 self-recorded tapes before slitting her arms and killing herself in her family bathtub. These tapes make their way through 10 of her friends, ex’s and enemies, each identifying the particular person and their wrongdoing in order, before reaching her shy crush Clay’s doorstep. Her rules say that he must listen to all of the tapes detailing why she killed herself and pass them on to the person who follows him. WIth each tape revealing intimate secrets about Hannah and Clay’s classmates, we follow him in his struggle to understand who this girl really was when she was alive, how she was treated by those she trusted and most importantly; why Hannah Baker killed herself.
Having just binged the whole 13 episodes over two disgustingly wet and cold days with my sister, i think I have a pretty good idea about what goes down.
I hope you’re ready because I’m about to tell you what I think of this story as a teenager in this modern world. And since there are 13 sides to every story I want to tell mine.
I want to be honest here and start off by saying in an almost critical way, that there were a lot of things about this show that I didn’t like at all. I’m not saying that I was forced to watch all 13 episodes against my will, I just think that sometimes there are only a few things that TV shows need to keep you coming back.
Unanswered questions are one of those things, so so many questions which I personally need to have answered by a show, before it slowly drives me insane and I have to look up a spoiler synopsis..
Tumblr media
But who wants to cheat TV shows when you may as well just watch them? Hell, if i can sit through 7 years of the Pretty Little Liars mystery, then I had faith that I could sit through 13 episodes, and I did. My main questions centred around the tapes, specifically; what on earth did Clay do to make him partly ‘responsible’ for Hannah’s death?
So many things to question and discuss but really where to begin?
Let’s put ‘7 things that really grind my gears’(1 for each of the tapes of course) into a list and see how I go before this become a sad, sad rant.
*Disclaimer* I did actually enjoy the show overall so please keep this in mind with what you see below
1: When Clay begins to irk me, the other characters and the entire human species Portrayed by Dylan Minnette, (who believe it or not, has played a character named Clay before, WTF) Clay Jensen is a socially awkward yet well liked student who can hold a place on the school’s honour board yet cannot hold a conversation with a girl. His cringey yet endearing nature promotes him as a lovable protagonist, an innocent light in the darkness of an extremely tough situation. I found myself quite often taking his side in the show and totally rooting for his character.
Despite this, Clay’s loyalty and love for Hannah often poses as quite irritating and almost unrealistic (even if he was a sensitive guy) considering the way she treats him. Throughout the whole debacle, so many accuse Hannah of being dramatic, selfish and attention seeking. Clay however. seems to believe 95% of the time that she was some perfect being who could do no wrong in the world, that the responsibility for killing herself could not have been her own. Of course I am aware of looking at someone through rose coloured glasses when youre keen on them but, to put it bluntly; you’d think that might change when they die.
2: The fact that Clay has like zero close friends yet everyone seems to like him
Everyone who has ever been to high school knows that you need a solid few close friends to bounce back on, who you can trust. There is often a reason therefore that people don’t have any, usually the fact that nobody likes them. This just causes the whole plot idea to make no sense, because everyone at the school seemed to really like Clay. With the exception of Tony who he rarely sees anyway, Clay never had anyone to hang out with before or after school or even at lunchtime, unless of course it was someone he had a ‘school project’ with.
Tumblr media
3: The ‘jock crowd’
So most of the jock crowd, who of course run the school, are in the basketball team and are therefore given a leeway that most students aren’t. It makes complete sense for them to stick together, just as they do in every other US teen drama. Their group dynamic however has a small cult vibe to it  that is simply unsettling. These guys do everything together, support each other in fights, follow each other on their dates and supposedly tell each other everything. For some reason this group also includes the dorky class president and resident sadboi with unmatching hair and eyebrows. Now I’m not disputing that this couldnt happen irl because everyone has the right to befriend whoever they want, it just seems to me that these personalities together would clash. We all know they are together at the ‘present time’ because of the tapes, but for previous times, im just not buying it. Perhaps the writers couldn’t be bothered creating separate groups for each of those targeted on the tapes and introducing more characters into the 13 episodes created.
4: Is there no other girls at Liberty High?????
The jock crowd as specified above hold the place as the most sought after students in the High School yet it seems as though the only girls that exist to them are Hannah and Jessica. What happened to the entire cheer squad or the whole student body? Are these 2 new girls so amazing that no other girl could be considered an option? It seems almost like some game of musical chairs, except the chairs are the boys and Jessica and Hannah end up on a different lap every time the music stops.
5: WHo the fuck does Courtney think she is?
If you got through all 13 episodes without dedicating a split second of anger towards Courtney Crimsen then bravo my friend because this character literally drove me up the wall. Props to actress Michele Ang I suppose because this bitch fired me up real bad. Ever heard of the phrase ‘Dead men tell no tales’ well clearly Courtney disagrees, 100% hell bent on convincing everyone that Hannah was lying in the tapes so that she could continue living in denial of her sexual preference. Continually pushing Hannah onto the dirt road to get hit by whatever was coming her way there is zero surprise that she made her way onto the tapes, the selfish bitch that she is. (Speaking of Courtney) Netflix also needs to be a bit more careful about their wardrobe choices in such a recent Riverdale episode and season release of this show perhaps?
Tumblr media
6: Zach DID NOTHING WRONG
Poor, sweet Zach. A whole episode and tape side that started with just one heated conversation in the cafeteria- where he juST wanted to go on a date with Hannah??? Of course at this point Hannah was not in a good place, so any small prank becomes a national disaster- but how was he to know before she gave him the letter of explanation. A letter which, considering his home and friend situation, he could not go to anyone for help with, especially if he feared that it would be telling Hannah’s secret. Zach really just reacted how 90% of teenagers would; he froze, he didnt know how to act, so he did nothing.
This is what got me about like half of the characters on the tapes, most of them just acted out of fear and didnt know what else to do, yet Hannah seemed to expect so much more from them. Which brings me to my final bullet point on the list;
7: Hannah fucking Baker
Where do I even start? It’s a really touchy subject to address; her character really annoyed me-I guess she really annoyed herself as well, considering her fate. Hannah at the end of the series is completely lost, she’s got so much on her shoulders and believes that there is no other way to turn. But Hannah at the beginning, I couldnt stand her. She had so much going for her yet she let every single obstacle get her down, none of her friends were good enough, all of the boys offended her, every tiny issue became a national disaster. I can’t help but think that if she hadn’t cared so much perhaps she might have found a way to work through her struggles without turning to the last resort. But i get it, this isnt a show about getting through problems and happy endings, it’s all about worse case scenarios. This is why Hannah does and says what she does, so that the situations can be both relatable and believable- for if Hannah gets torn up about high school rumours, then sexual assault and car accidents would be unbearable without professional help. I understand this now as I look at the plot as a whole, but during, oh hell that girl needed a slap into reality. Just watch it, you’ll understand.
Tumblr media
Don’t get me wrong though, there were also a lot of things that I liked about 13 reasons why.
-I loved the cassette tapes; a timeless way of recording and listening to anything, a much appreciated throwback in such a modern show
-I loved Tony who I think we can all agree does not look 17 but I’m not complaining, so sweet and such a good friend/person (and i loved his car of course)
-I loved how sweet and loving Clay was. As an eternally single pringle, my heart leapt for his cute crushing, even if it did become tiring
-I loved the almost vintage feel to the cinematography, the colours and shots almost dulled to the tone
-I loved how the concept of rape was not only addressed, but focused on as well as the idea of consent. Whilst these scenes may have been almost uncomfortable, they were necessary and extremely powerful.
-I loved how the show centered around outsiders, the quiet and socially awkward, the unusual characters and their interaction with the well known highschool stereotypes.
-Most of all, I loved how the show displayed how suicide destroys so many more than the person who died. Friends and family may never recover, forever question what they could have done differently, some also led to further suicides. 
Tumblr media
It’s a hard topic but I am so glad that it is being talked about, even if there are disagreements because at least it is now out in the open. I personally believe that suicide is an incredibly selfish act which I understand that many people could disagree with.  I get it, I’ve never stepped into shoes like that and that’s fine, but i know for sure that if anyone in my life chose to end theirs then it would absolutely destroy me- just as the strongly portrayed characters were torn apart. 
Let me know what you think.
5 notes · View notes
thishari-blog · 7 years
Text
Cementing their future...
Over the past few weeks in the community, we have driven past community members engaged in occupations, both positive and negative, that I don’t see in my own community. However, my interest peaked when we drove by a cement brick making business. My dad is a builder consequently, I have a VERY brief understanding about building and the materials required. However, the only information and insight into cement bricks I had prior to visiting the community brick makers was that my house was made up of cement bricks. Plus, I assumed that these types of bricks were solely manufactured in factories by big companies who had all the fancy equipment necessary. Driving by the community cement brick makers and their ‘work space’ for the first time, really made me question the legitimacy of this business… the area was surrounded by tall unkempt reeds sprouting out of a river and was quite frankly not very ‘business-like’.  There was just a single hand painted business sign nailed to a tree serving as advertisement. It was only once saw that the wet cement bricks, that were lined up outside in the sparse area, did I realise and believe that this is a fully fledged business.
This business is run by 2 men in their early 30s. They have been engaged in this occupation for the past 7 years. Whilst chatting to them, it was clear that although they find the work quite strenuous (physically), this business was their ‘bread and butter’. I was unusually excited to get my hands dirty... literally! I jumped straight into the process, the men showed me how to mix the cement, pour it into the moulds and taught me numerous logistical elements of brick making as we went along. They then allowed me to make a set of cement blocks and patiently observed (and gave a few sniggers) whilst I clumsily performed the various steps…let’s just say my bricks/blocks were not square… they were ‘squircles’! I could go on and on about the happenings in the day purely because it was an amazing experience.*
However, being an OT student, we have been taught to look at things ‘holistically’ and multi-dimensionally. So whilst I had a blast engaging in this occupation for a few hours, based on my analysis and discussion with the men, I started to think about how I would feel performing this occupation on a daily basis, in terms of my dreams and aspirations, and all the elements that needed to be considered when doing so (in particular contextual elements).
It is suggested that engaging in positive occupations, like that of cement brick making, “forms the fabric of everyday lives.” (Wilcock, 1998, p.341.). This is evident in how important this this occupation is to these two men who rely on it for an income in order to support their families. This occupation has also shaped who they are and who they have become. Prior to running this business one of the men, Mr Y, couldn’t find a job for around 5 years and subsequently turned to alcoholism. Since establishing the business, Mr Y is alcohol free and is the bread winner of his family (they used to rely on child support grant just to get by.) It is also believed that occupational engagement enables humans to acquire, utilize and maintain knowledge and skills, through participation. (Hocking, 2009). The two men had a basic understanding of this occupation when they started their business 7 years ago and over the years their skill and knowledge about this occupation has certainly flourished, “In the beginning we was just trying it out, we didn’t know very much about it. But since we starting we learn more and more and find new tools to help us.” (Mr X, personal communication, May 4, 2017).
When circumstances/situations occur that result in an individual’s inability to perform some or all of the activities they are used to, this has serious implications for humans.  Whilst speaking to the men and holistically analysing their business, the context and certain personal factors may have an influence their ability to make cement bricks.
According to Wilcock 1998, occupation enables the adaptation of the environment that surrounds us, the potential to develop and maintain social relationships with others, and the potential to grow as an individual. I disagree with this statement to a certain extent. In order to interrogate the reason behind the men starting the business, I asked the men what job they would prefer if they could choose any job. I wasn’t particularly shocked by their responses. Humans are ingrained with survival instincts and thus ‘survival of the fittest’ would ultimately apply in situations in which poverty is rife. I would also do anything possible to earn money, for myself and family, if I found myself in such circumstances.  In reality, in various contexts, certain individual’s perform certain occupations solely for an income and some are left performing mundane, ritualistic tasks which realistically, after a certain point, don’t allow for growth. For example, although Mr X is good at performing his duties (moulding the cement), his dream is to become a teacher however, given his socio-economic circumstances and poor education, he is ‘forced’ to continue engaging in this occupation (because it is enabling him to support his family) and consequently he is unable fulfil his dream and ‘grow’ as an individual. Consequently, Mr X is experiencing Occupational Apartheid because his socio-economic status and poor education is precluding him for opportunities to engage in meaningful occupations due to factors beyond his control (Kronenberg and Pollard, 2005). Mr Y also stated that brick making is not his passion and that he would prefer panel beating “but the money isn’t very good there”. (Mr Y, personal communication, May 4, 2017).
Both men therefore experience Occupational Disruption. Their context has impacted on their ability to freely participate in occupations of their own choice. Occupational disruption has the potential to threaten the well-being of an individual. Such situations normally become threatening to the individual’s wellness. (Joubert, 2007). Wilcock (2001) refers to this disharmony between a person’s life and their nature or environment as Occupational alienation. This however isn’t to say that the men have stagnated in life. Their current occupation can serve as a stepping stone to attaining aspirations.
The type of occupation, which has both physical and psychological components, also places the men at risk of occupational dysfunction. Given that it is ‘hands-on’ occupation and requires two or more people at any given time (one to mix the cement and one to make the bricks using the mould), if one or both of the men were to suffer from a physical and or mental illness that results in temporary or permanent impairment, it will be very difficult or impossible for them to continue performing this occupation, given the physical elements involved (shovelling cement, carrying the bricks, fetching water from the river, walking up steep slopes)  and they would thus have to assume a different role (i.e. a supervisor) however, this would affect the dynamics of the business as the profit would have to be re-distributed for example.
Numerous factors also affect an individual’s ability to successfully engage in and perform various occupations. There are certain occupational barriers that I have identified whilst chatting with the men and analysing the environment and facilities available. These barriers are to a large extent out of the men’s control but impeded their ability to engage in this occupation on a daily basis. For example, the Mr Y stated that weather often affects the running of the business... it is however a ‘frenemy’.  When it is raining, the men cannot work, given that the ‘work space’ is uncovered. In addition, the cement is uncovered and thus will not dry appropriately. *The men also rely on a river, located next to the open ‘work-space’, to get water in order to mix their cement. This means that if there is no rain for prolonged periods of time, the river may have an insufficient amount of water to supply the production demand.
Although I have identified numerous barriers to this occupation/ circumstance’s and factors that impeded/possibly impeded the men’s ability to engage in this occupation (given the nature of the business), there are numerous positive factors that cannot be ignored. The business is obviously successful, they have been operating for the past 7 years. They have also been able to expand their clientele to include a small building company in New Germany, in addition to community members, despite the economic situation of the country the low socio economic status of the community. If I was given this business plan, on paper, it seems impossible and quite frankly insane. However, it works and as much as there are occupational barriers and factors/potential factors that could/do impede their engagement in the occupation, I believe the saying ‘if it isn’t broken, don’t fix it’ is quite fitting in this instance.
On a side note- there isn’t a day in the community when I am not blown away by the hospitality of most of the community members, seriously… no business in my community would accept students participating in or observing them working without prior meetings, phone calls and tedious paper work. When I arrived at the cement brick makers business, the men were more than willing to demonstrate their skills and the tasks that they perform on a daily basis. Yet, prior to entering this community, I had wrongly prejudiced the members of this community as being violent and involved in thievery….shame on me!  
 References:
Joubert,RWE.(2007) Indigenous fruits from exotic roots? Revisiting the South African Occupational Therapy Curriculum. Doctoral thesis, Faculty of Education, University of KwaZulu-Natal, Durban, South Africa.
Kronenberg F & Pollard N. Overcoming occupational apartheid – A preliminary exploration of the political nature of occupational therapy. In: Kronenberg, F. Algado, S. & Pollard, N. (Editors) (2005).
Wilcock, A. (2001). Occupational utopias: Back to the future. Journal of Occupational Science. Volume 1(1): 5-12.
Wilcock, A.A. (1998). Occupation for health. British Journal of Occupational Therapy, 61 (8), 340-345.
Hocking, C. (2000). Occupational science: A stock take of accumulated insights. Journal of Occupational Science, 7(2), 58-67. DOI: 10.1080/14427591.2000.9686466.
Personal communication- Mr X (4/05/2017)
Personal communication Mr Y (4/05/2017)
Photo credit: Aamina Hoosain
1 note · View note
Text
Journal #9
(Fair warning for anyone {no one} who might actually read my stupid journals but this is a long one) Last time I was here writing to you, I was wallowing in self-pity for no apparent reason. Which is normal I presume. It is good to keep yourself in check with reality when it seems things are going so swimmingly. And things are just that - going swimmingly. 
Last time, I mentioned my best friend’s wedding, which has become one of the most magical nights to me. We cried we laughed, we danced. I did not think I was going to cry since I’m not much of a public crier, but boy did I bawl when I watched her husband-to-be choke up at the sight of his wife-to-be float down the aisle. She was stunningly perfect that night, so I get why he did. But at the mere glimpse of his reaction, I couldn’t help myself. The waterworks came rushing. It was a beautiful tiny moment of pure happiness. It wasn’t until that I knew what I wanted. I want someone who chokes up at the look of me walking towards them to be with them for the rest of our lives... I’m gonna get a little crazy here now because this is where my mind is going but I just thought - what if the person I marry dies before me?!? I do not know if I could handle that... even if it is after 50 years together knowing I still may have 30 years to go.. 
Anyway back to that magical night. I went into this wedding weekend with a completely free spirit. I was ready to party and have fun as a young 20-something-year-old. Point-blank, I wanted to make out with a boy. I had one prospect in mind. His name is Wilson. He is tall, (not very dark, quite the opposite actually) but is very handsome with an insanely contagious smile. He was a groomsman who became friends with the groom through journalism school. For some reason, I was warned that he might be a player, but upon getting to know him, I didn’t catch that vibe at all. Regardless, my goal for the weekend was to kiss him. 
We started talking at the rehearsal dinner, some flirting, some joking around. I think at this point we both knew then that we were into each other. The next day we did a lot of flirting and dancing together at the reception. Two of my fellow bridesmaids decided to pop the question to him, “which bridesmaid are you interested in?” and If I am being honest, not so shockingly, he said me. So all the other single bridesmaids and groomsmen decided it was best if we all went out for drinks after the reception. I think the goal really was to just get Wilson and I together though. Everyone knew we were interested in each other. I like that thought though, that everyone wanted us to get together, so they tried to make it happen. Anyway, we all went out and of course Wilson and I pretty much just sat together the whole time and talked nonstop. By the end of the night, we were sitting on some bar stools on the patio of what I believe to be the dingiest bar in the Virginia Highlands making out at 2AM. “Damn is he good kisser!” I kept thinking. Hell, I would have taken him home that night to show him how I really felt if I hadn't had to get up and go to work the next day. But I’m glad I didn’t, because otherwise, I don’t think we would be where we are now if I had. He drove me back to my car and asked for my number and out on a date for later that week. 
Our first date was essentially a sweet old Taylor Swift song. The one that goes “Walked in expecting you’d be late, but you got here early and you stand a wave.” To make it more surreal it really was a “Wednesday in a cafe” when he threw back his head laughing like a little kid and I really had spent the last eight months thinking “all love ever does is brake and burn and end.” AND to take it even further, I really did think about bringing up my ex, but he started talking about the movies his family watches every single Christmas. I quite literally felt like I was experiencing it Begin Again. 
But as always, there is a twist. He lives 9 hours away in Baton Rouge. We went on three more dates out of convenience of him having to be in Atlanta. And I could feel us liking each other more each time. Our hugs are like nothing I have ever felt before. He gives the best kisses with an array of soft gentle foreheads kisses to I don’t want you to leave me kisses. How am I supposed to just let how I am feeling go just because he lives in a different city? I’m such a hopeless romantic... but we made plans. I was gonna visit him. 
A month and a half later, here I am, sitting in my bed at home writing this stupid ass real love story the day after I got home from spending the last 48 hours or so hours with him. I don’t see myself letting this go. So, we shall see where this goes. 
I know I’ve written so many stupid posts and journals about my love affairs over the past year, but this one just feels so good. I’m terrified and full of butterflies. And he is the same. That’s the difference.    
0 notes