Thursday, April 5, 2018

A Night To Forget

Currently listening to: So It Goes by Taylor Swift
...
I'm not a "get under someone to get over someone" else kind of gal. I'm not a dreamer in the love department either. I don't meet a man or chat with a dude and instantly think of how our life "could" pan out if we could only go the distance. I'm also not a woman who can jump straight into the arms of another man after be held so tightly by another. But do I like distractions? Of course I do. Do I like attention? Yes, obviously. 

So, when I got a text from an old flame, I was ready to rock'n'roll, at least for a night. 

...

I hadn't been to Brad's house in around a year and a half. The driveway was dark and I saw his head peeking out the front door as soon as I parked my car. I rustled my hair a bit and tried to swallow the pit in my stomach that had become a permanent fixture for the last two weeks. 

I walked along the stones and didn't raise my head. I was embarrassed. As much it felt good to expose the truth, I made mistakes too. I allowed myself to get caught up in the fantasy that he was offering. It didn't matter how many people had reached out to me and said, "We're so sorry this happened to you and Claire, but finally he messed with the wrong woman," because it still happened and I had no control over the affects of it concerning my daughter.

I scuffed my shoes on the concrete steps and nearly fell off the side of the porch. He giggled at me and caught my wrist. 

"You look different, Grace," he said once his eyes reached mine.

I laughed, "I'm different every time you see me."

He guided me into the dark room and locked the door behind us. There were hardwood floors and a rocking chair in the corner but that was it. It smelled like cologne and there was a cup of beer on the side table, glowing under a single lamp. 

I followed him into the living room and watched as he threw pillows off the couch. We sat down and I curled up next to him watching a muted TV mounted on the wall. 

It didn't feel right but it felt good nonetheless to have another warm body next to mine. He was a friend. He was capitalizing on my new trauma and getting a bit of lip out of it. He knew what he was doing and I knew what he was doing but it was a nice distraction.

And throughout the hours I spent there, I forgot. In between kissing and hands at the back of my neck, I forgot that a week ago there were other hands in my back pocket. I forgot that I had someone telling me that he wanted to marry me in the basement of my parents' house. I forgot that I had someone else pressed up against me in the hallway. I forgot until I didn't. 

And then I told the one who I was kissing, the one who's breath tasted of beer and Tic-Tacs, the memory that was creeping into my mind...

"What are you thinking about," Brad asked.

"A week ago," I answered.

He gave me a look that just said, "Spill it, Grace."

So, I painted the picture...

March 26th, 2018

He smelled like onion grass. This was a self-proclaimed thought. He needed a haircut and probably needed to brush his teeth because half of his lunch was stuck in his permanent retainer. But I didn't care because the way he looked at me with those puppy dog eyes was enough. 

We had a talk of our own after he had finished up with my mom. He explained his fears but reiterated his love. And then, he pounced while making sure all parts of my body he loved so much were still intact.

"It's all yours if you come home," I reminded him.

He said, "I kiss you for 30 seconds and my *peen gets hard, it's ridiculous." 

Brad laughed and interrupted, "And all the while there was someone else?"

"Yes, I had no idea but he had been with her the day before, at church, when he sent my mom the text about never wanting to lose us," I explained.

"Son of a bitch didn't deserve you. Hell, I don't deserve you here," he said.

Then I began laughing, "The difference is I am fully aware of what this is." 

...

names were changed in this, obviously
*penis



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