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Authors: Olivia Gracey

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BOOK: The Quest
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              “So tell me the truth…what really happened last night?”

              “Truth?”

              “Yes, I need to know.” I swallowed hard afraid of what he’d say.

              “What does it matter?”

              “It just does. I’m not ready to go there again with you. I need to know if anything happened.”

              He looked at me with those beautiful blue sad eyes and said, “Nothin’.”

              “Nothin’?”

              “Nothin’. You were all over me, as I was with you of course. We started shedding clothes as we walked through the door, but by the time you made it to the bed and laid down, you were out. So I pulled the covers over you and went to bed myself.”

              “Really?”

              “Honestly, Sadie, do you think I would take advantage of you if you were that drunk? Geez, give me some credit!” His voice rose with excitement.

              “I’m sorry. I just don’t…”

              “I know, I get it. You don’t want me.”

              “It’s not that I don’t want you. I want to not want you. You make it very difficult for me to move on.”

              “But there’s no need for you to move on…you know that…come back home. I need you… I miss you. It’s not the same without you.”

              “I thought you had a girlfriend?”

              “So?”

              “What about her? Don’t you care about her?”

              “I care about her, but I love you. I don’t love her.”

              I stared into his eyes and I remembered there was a time I would have given anything to hear him say those words again to me. Those words meant nothing now. I was cold and unfeeling. I wanted to say, ‘you don’t love me you just think you do,’ but I couldn’t. I couldn’t find the words to say that without hurting him. I could tell he was hurting enough already.

              “Come on,” he said grabbing his keys, “I’ll take you home.”

              “Thanks.” My crooked smile did no good. I followed him down a hallway and out a door that led us into a garage where his car was parked.

              “Nice place.”

              “I know.”

***

T
he long ride back to my apartment was a quiet one as my head began to spin again trying to make sense of it all. I figured I would just go back to bed and forget about my life for a while, forget about sleeping naked with Radley, forget his big beautiful house he built on a mountain top in Tennessee, forget about the breathtaking view I wanted so badly to capture with my camera. Although I knew I could never do it justice, I would try because I just didn’t want to forget it.

              When we arrived, Radley offered to help me with my stuff up the stairs, I declined the help, kissing him on the cheek and thanking him for all he had done for me. As I climbed my stairs I heard him peel out of the parking lot. In some strange way I took that as if he was glad to get rid of me. I had no idea when I’d see him again. Radley hates drama and the past twenty hours had been nothing but drama with me. But no doubt he wouldn't quit trying to win me over. I was sure as soon as he thought I was back to my old chipper self, he would be back at my door.

              Truth was I missed Denver even worse now. Being in Radley’s arms made me feel guilty even though nothing happened, but it was Denver that I wanted now. Denver that I needed in my life. Denver that I wished would have shown up at my door and rescued me. Denver that I wished I had gotten drunk with last night and slept wonderfully in his arms. I missed Denver’s crispy bacon; his yummy scrambled eggs mixed with four different cheeses and special spices; I missed his kisses over stinky black coffee and fresh blueberry muffins. Where was he? I don’t know. But I wish I did.

              I slipped off my jeans and climbed beneath the sheets of my old new bed. It wasn’t as comfy as Denver’s, but it was mine. And I had no choice but to get used to it. It didn't take long before I was asleep and forgetting about the life I once had; The lives I’ve shared with Radley; The life I lost with Ed; And now the life I missed with Denver.

              In a time of sulking sorrow, you sleep. I thank the Good Lord for allowing me to sleep. When I’m asleep I don’t remember that Denver’s not here with me and how I‘d give anything to have him awaken me again with that sweet condition of his.

Chapter Thirteen

The Hot Ugly Brute

 

 

I
slept through the night and woke up at sunrise the next morning. I stood at my bar drinking my latte wondering why I had allowed my life to go in the direction it had. I wondered why I get myself in these pickles that torment me. Why do I pick the men that hurt me the most? I just couldn’t grasp the idea of why I attract such heartbreakers. Isn’t there a guy out there with a tender heart? One that won’t leave me if I can’t carry his child? Is there not a guy left in this world that isn’t selfish? In my heart, I just couldn’t fathom another break. “I’m out of duct tape,” I heard myself say out loud.

              I made myself busy unpacking and hanging all the pictures upon the empty walls. I had really considered moving to another apartment, this one held too many memories now. Seemed all my lovers had lived here at some point. Now that they all had left me, the walls were beginning to haunt me. The more I thought about it, the more it made sense. I needed to move.

              I slipped on a pair of yoga pants, pulled my hair out of my face, and slipped into a no-nonsense wife-beater. I trotted down the stairs and off to the leasing office. It was time for new surroundings, a new beginning, a new place. I loved the area I lived in so moving to another apartment complex was out of the question. I felt a new apartment, one without memories was just what I needed. I walked in all happy and chipper with my idea in hand and spelled it out to the leasing agent. She totally understood and took me on a tour of what was available.

              The first apartment she showed me was smaller than mine but it was bright and open. A very nice airy feeling but the kitchen was just too small. Not that I’m a gourmet cook, but I do like to make a soup or something on occasion. I don’t want to be denied the space just in case my Betty Crocker side decided to arise. The second apartment she showed me was similar to mine but had carpet throughout, no hardwood floors. I knew I wouldn’t like that. What if I had a moment when I needed those hardwoods? What then? I quickly declined before she showed me much more. What was my excuse? “Allergies!

No need to explain how comforting a pristine hard wooden floor is to a once twice shy broken woman.

              The third apartment she showed me looked out over the wooded area that surrounded the back of the apartment complex. It was an undeveloped area with plans of future apartments and retail shops. The agent felt it would be a long time though before it would be developed. The apartment was a three bedroom, a little larger than I would have chosen, but it had all hardwood floors and a larger kitchen than mine. She walked me through it showing me that the third bedroom was smaller which would make the perfect office space if I needed it. It also had a balcony that looked out over the woods. Very nice. No peeping passerby’s like I was used to. The feeling the space gave me was serene and peaceful, soothing and wanted. I felt immediately at home in the empty shell. I just knew it would be a perfect fit. “I’ll take it!”

              I signed a new lease and agreed to move within the week. The sooner I moved the better I knew I would feel. I needed healing, new surroundings, a new beginning. This I thought would help me a great deal. There would be no more ghosts haunting me. No more memories of being broken on my floor. It was a fresh start. The new beginning I deserved to a brand new me.

              I called my guy friend that was loaded edge over the edge in muscles and after hearing a bit of ragging on my situation he agreed to round up his guys and move me again. Only this time I had to double the amount of beer and pizza and throw in a dinner date with him. Ugh! After much negotiation to which I had no other choice I gave in. He was a single guy, one I had met after Ed that I had no romantic interest in. Of course, he didn’t feel the same way about me, but he kept a lid on his actions and always acted like the perfect gentleman around me. When he mentioned date I figured I would make it a lunch date so to not be in the presence of a romantic evening consisting of alcohol or candlelight with him. I didn’t need another railroaded night like I had with Radley. I knew I was vulnerable. I knew I couldn’t trust myself or him.

              The guys showed up bright and early that Saturday morning. I was wide awake and ready, third cup of coffee in hand, ready to bark out orders with my truck backed up to the stairs. I was so anxious to get my new life started I could hardly contain my smile. Maybe it was the coffee that had me a little anxious. Either way, I was beaming. The guys were full of sarcastic comments and smirks, but they were fun and very helpful. There was nothing they couldn’t lift, chug, or carry down those three flights of stairs. And when we reached my new apartment, I marveled in the excitement of watching them carry it all back up another three flights of stairs. But the guys never complained, and they started on the beer a little earlier than expected. By noon, I was making another trip to the grocery store and reloading the fridge. By mid-afternoon the beer was gone, the pizza was devoured, and the job was done. I, of course, was lined up for a lunch date the very next day. I gave it my best shot to put him off till the next week but he wouldn’t have it. Sundays were good days for him, he added, and I could join him for church if I’d like. Nice. Too bad he wasn’t my type. Going to a new church sounded like a great way to start off my new life. I made myself a note to search for a new place of worship. 

              After they left, I stood surrounded by boxes content with my decision. For once I felt like I made the right choice. I scooted into each room taking stock of what I thought I needed to make my new home cozy. I agreed the office/bedroom would make the perfect studio. I would hang some of my favorite shots on the walls, have a nice over-stuffed chair to curl up and read in, and maybe a bookcase or two.

              The guest room I would make up really frilly and ladylike. Adorn it with lace curtains, thick silk bedding, and overstuffed pillows. I’d hang signs of encouragement on the walls so that when Sofie would visit it would make her feel like a princess and subconsciously give her the advice she so desperately needed. Mainly, I would finally have a place she could call her room to come stay in whenever she needed it. I would outfit the guest bathroom with jazzy animal prints and fluffy rugs. The ones you could sink your toes in. That I knew she would really like.

              My bedroom, I agreed, would be my sanctuary. It would be adorned with deep rich fabrics hanging from the curtains, white fluffy bedding, overstuffed pillows, small little pillows too with quotes that I’d read every day. Quotes that reminded me of the life I deserved. I would buy new sheets, ones that no lover had ever slept on, pure and crisp with a high thread count too. My closet I knew would be a haven for all my things. There was more than enough room to hold all my clothes. I do believe the last count I had, I possessed over seventy-five wife beaters, but everything else I owned was just lame in comparison. I smiled thinking I needed to add some new ones to the new space. I grabbed my keys off the counter and decided I needed a break; A retail shopping break. And off I went.

              I arrived back at my apartment late that evening. I had closed the stores down with my shopping spree. It took me three trips to my truck to lug it all up the stairs. I was used to climbing three flights of stairs with packages in tow. I knew how to pile my arms full to make the most out of one trip.

              I wasted no time unpacking and arranging my room. I figured it was the most important place to start so I started there. A few hours later, I had sheets on my bed and a pillow that read, “Do what makes you Happy. I am,” I said when I tossed it amongst the others. Happy quotes surrounded me all around my room. On my bed, on my walls, on my bathroom counter, on my mirror too. I spent well into the wee hours of the morning applying them all everywhere. I wanted to be reminded every day, every morning I awoke, that I was worthy. Subliminal messages you could say. I felt if I saw them, I would eventually believe them.

              When I was a child my Mother loved the word of the Good Lord. She would buy plaques and pictures framed with scriptures. When she felt the need of a new scripture, she would make a note of it and hang it somewhere on the wall. Somewhere she was sure to pass by and see on a daily basis. It was comfort for her. A reminder of the Good Lord’s promises. The scriptures she chose were always uplifting and full of love. I remember reading everything I passed by, every time I passed by them until I was quoting from memory.

              Many Bible passages I had learned from her notes that she posted. I never told her the effect those notes had on me, and actually, I don’t think I ever realized it myself until now. Now, I find myself seeking scriptures and quotes to uplift me as if I’m not able to keep my spirit up myself. And maybe that’s okay if I have days that I need a reminder. Maybe it’s not a bad thing to recognize you are weak and in need of help at times. Maybe it’s a good thing to be reminded every day that you are worthy, you are loved, and you are special too. I definitely had no man in my life at the moment that was going to remind me of that.

              I found the Hemmingway quote I had always loved, “The most painful thing is losing yourself in the process of loving someone too much, and forgetting that you are special too.”

              I hung it in my bathroom. Then I felt lucky to find the quote, “I love sleep. My life has the tendency to fall apart when I’m awake, you know?” That one I hung over my bed. It was true. When I slept, I didn’t know he wasn’t here beside me. When I was awake I had my moments that I would fall apart without him. So it reminded me to quickly close my eyes at night, not wasting any time lying there wondering ‘what if’.

              It took me a few days to get everything back in order and unpacked. When it was all done I was satisfied. Of course, it didn’t fill the whole in my heart like I thought it would, but it was easier to come home now. I didn’t have the feeling of wanting to run away anymore. I was content with my new surroundings you could say. I had managed to go by my old place on Sunday after the lunch date with my muscle-bound fellow and cleaned my beautiful floors for the last time. I had a very intense moment of remembering all the times it reached out to me. I thanked the floor wholeheartedly for being there. There were days I just wouldn’t have survived without its support.

              I apologized too for abandoning it and having the need to move on. I felt it understood. I hoped that whoever lived here would live a peaceful life, one full of laughter and love, not brokenness and sorrow. I said a silent prayer to the life I lived between the walls of the apartment. Then I locked the door behind me remembering all the times I had left the keys in the door. I smiled at the thought there would be no doubt I would do it at my new place. That was just something I seemed to do from time to time. A little of my air-headedness you could say.

              I celebrated that night with a pizza and a good bottle of wine. When I finished off the last drop out of the bottle, I snuggled beneath my new crisp sheets and went to sleep easy. For the first time in a while there were no tears on my new pillow. I awoke the next morning happy, refreshed, and happily re-reading all the quotes on my walls. This one was rather large and framed. I hung it where I was sure to read it every day.

***

If you find yourself alone

Tap into your mind

Relive all your happy thoughts

Leave no thought left behind.

And even if those thoughts

Are with doubt and confusion too

Honor them as time well spent

And fill your heart with joy.

 

Know everything you’ve lived for

Is worthy of your smile

Life is short do not waste

Another day, another mile.

OG

***

I
have a new project to begin today. Wheh! I was glad to get it too. It had been a while since my last project and I had almost depleted my mad money with the move to the new apartment and the crazy shopping spree. This project was close to home so there was no travel involved. Bummer. It was okay, though. My new place had given me a new trust in my feelings. I wasn’t finding myself surrounded by my bruised or broken memories anymore. I was at peace with what life had handed me. Yes, maybe not the life I would have chosen but one I was grateful for.

              I packed my camera bag, over packed a snack pack and a cooler of water, and then set out to greet the team. Today, I was working with a group of military men on the base to shoot some interesting formations and drills. It was for a magazine that was distributed to all military folks and their families. It was a great opportunity for exposure in my field and to top it off they wanted me to write an article as well for the piece. Sweet. Writing was not something I had the chance to do often, so I was looking forward to the challenge of the work involved.

              So I wore my basic black wife beater (my favorite in a group of about thirty). I made sure I wore a bra that was less attractive on the girls as well. I do own one that looks as if I’ve shrunk down a size or two when I wear it. No, it did not come from VS. All of my VS bras hype me up a size or two rounding out the girls quite nicely and placing them on a shelf. This one had very little padding, almost none, and no lace. Very unattractive you could say but it held the girls with a lot of support. I dug deep in my new closet for a pair of black cargo pants that required a belt. The pants were adorned with many pockets and the belt was just mechanical, no frills or feminine look to it. I threw on my favorite North Face jacket and headed out. I looked like a knight-ranger decked out to rescue a distressed victim. It was vital to me that I didn’t look attractive nor feminine. The group I would be working with would be very stoic and military. There would be no fun and frolic nor did I need to set myself up to be ogled or flirted with. In the state of mind I was in, I was also in no mood to be flirted with either. I was there to do a job, just a job.

BOOK: The Quest
13.73Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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