 The candles lit the hallway as I stared into the darkness that was the other end. The scents of body oils, the heat of Avery’s breath blowing against my arm, the influence of wine, and the smells of scented candles filled my lungs. I clung to the sheets, holding them against my skin. Avery was sleeping next to me, and somewhere inside me, I wanted to get up and get dressed and go home. I felt suffocated and I was fatigued. I checked his cell phone. His girlfriend had called about six times, trying to find out where he was, but he was not about to answer it, knowing I was right in the room. I was tired of Avery and this creeping around. It was getting old. Maybe I hated the fact that I was the woman on the side. However, when I looked at it, we both put ourselves in the same predicament; he had a girlfriend, and I had someone else I was trying to get close to, but somehow, we ended up together. I am not even going to lie about it: if it was not for the fact that he made me feel good when we touched or the way he had passion for life, I would not be here. The music went from soft to metal, which woke up Avery. “How long was I out?” Avery sighed. “For a while, I was not paying attention,” I replied. “Why are you over there?” he asked. “I’m just here.” He sat upright on the bed, turned off the music with the remote. I rolled over to my side. The breeze out of the window felt good against my skin, yet I needed to get out of here. The walls felt as if they were closing in. I felt as if so much was coming at me, so rapidly, and I could not make sense of any of it. I am most terrified when I cannot make sense of things. I felt myself resorting to old ways of thinking and antiquated patterns of behavior. It has always been troublesome when I have not been able to verbalize what I am feeling. |
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