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32. Bryanna
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Always 33. Bryanna
I can't believe I said those words. I can't believe I said them in the first place. And, more, I can't believe I said them after a quicky in the bathroom!But, what the hell, right? The important matter is I. Said. Those. Words. I told Nate I loved him. Aaargh. He may not say it back, yet, but he will. I have it on good authority—as known as my gut—that Nate's feeling is the same. He just ... needed more time to admit it to himself, let alone me. I can live with that. Guys always have difficulties on professing their feelings, right?So, yes, of course he will say it back to me. And I can't wait to hear it. Eeeeek! My, oh, my, how I miss my boyfriend.After our bathroom encounter, Nate insisted I went back to my apartment because in the off chance he couldn't make it back to his as he have to finish the recording stuff. I half heartedly agreed with him and sulked the whole time I Lyfted back to the Central Park Tower. But, turned out, it was a blessing in disguised. Because the
Always 34. Bryanna
"You know," he continues, still folding, his back is still on me. "I like you. I do. Because you were always there when I needed someone to listen to me, or when I wanted to just be. I like it because you can be, like, my ego booster." He turns and winks. "And ... I really like the sex. Man, they were really really good." He grabs the folded shirts and puts them in the black duffel bag. "I think I'm gonna miss that when I'm gone."He then starts folding his pants. "But," he pauses and shakes his head. "Nah, I'm going to be in LA, for God's sake. How hard can it be to find pu—. Sorry. Never mind." Nate chuckles, again, then shakes his head, again. "Man." He sighs. "Can't wait to be there and start living the dream."Nate keeps doing what he's doing; gathering his things and stuffing them into another duffel—this one is faded dark blue-grey with a cheap brand emblem on it—when the other one is full. And, he keeps talking. "Seriously, though. Maybe I'm going to miss you, after all. I wi
Always 35. Bryanna
"No, you didn't mean that!" "The hell I didn't!" "Nate!" He cusses under his breath and shakes his head. "Fuck it. I'm leaving." No! He can't leave. "Nate, please." He begins to walk. "Please, Nate, please. Please, please, please." He takes a step back and moves his hand away before I'm able to hold it. But, at least, the movement makes him stop on his track. I step in front of the love of my life, putting my body between him and the door as a barrier; barricading him from leaving me. "Nate, I love you so much. Please." I try to reach out for his hand again. He dodges, again. "Nate, please. I need you. I love you. I can go with you. We ... I ... I can—" "Which part of I don't love you that you don't get, huh? I don't love you! I loved fucking you but I don't fucking love you. You see the difference?You get that now? Huh? YOU GET THAT?" I'm .... Silent. Everything falls into a deafening silence; except for Nate's heavy breathing, and my restrained cry. I don't know why I s
Always 36. Bryanna
Something somewhere is startling me, waking me up. I can't figure out my whereabout. I can't remember the last thing I did. Where am I? Until at last my skin picks up the feeling of the hard and cold surface beneath me. So my best bet is I'm on the floor. That must be why, after I gain more consciousness, I'm feeling like my limbs are made of wood, looking at how stiff they are.I sit up so, so, so slowly and groggily. The world starts to spin a little. Damn. My head hurts something fierce.Damn it. Everything hurts. Why? I try to lift my lids, to open my eyes, but it's like someone had glued them together. My eyeballs keeps rolling behind my lids. I feel them shaking. But, they won't budge. It sure is a highly challenging task to do.After some real efforts, in the end, I succeed. From behind my half closed eyes, I see the room I'm in is pretty dark, the only light is from the bulb on the corridor outside that filters in and gives my tired hazels a chance to recognize my surround
Always 37. Bryanna
It has been three weeks since the last time I saw Nate. No. To be more precise, it has been three weeks and five hours since the day he walked out of his apartment, walked out of my life. It has been three weeks and five hours of me trying to get up every morning and feel okay instead of feeling like a walking corpse. Numb. It has been three weeks and five hours of me faking smiles in front of the world, enchanting those clients with my power suits and bravado only to be a messy, pathetic, and heartbroken girl behind my apartment's door. It has been three weeks and five hours of me calling Nate's number to no avail. I really meant nothing to him. It hurts. It hurts like hell to acknowledge this fact even though my mind have been repeating it again and again and again. It hurts to acknowledge it. And to accept it? It's another story all together. It is like I'm dying a painful death. Hanging from the ceiling, both of my hands tied at the wrists, and someone sliced my skin just dee
Always 38. Bryanna
I slept eight hours straight for the first time in three weeks. Maybe it have something to do with my best friend's presence—she's still sleeping and hogging the bed, by the way, that girl—or, it's just that I feel so much lighter after unloading my baggage last night. Poor best friend had to listen to all of that. Maybe that's why she's still asleep. My drama is keeping her tied to the bed. Or, she's just dealing with her food coma. We couldn't be so sure which one is right with her. I pad to the kitchen and color me not so surprise to see Tom already sits on one of the stool, a steaming mug of coffee on the breakfast bar in front of him, phone in his hand. "Good sleep?" he asks, diverting his vision from the screen to me. I am met with dark pools of understanding. It's comforting and terrifying at the same time. This guy. Morwenna is sooo lucky to have him for better or worst."Yeah," I croak, then clear my throat. I haven't brush my teeth. I haven't wash my face. Even my hair
Always 39. Bryanna
Work was distracting. New projects gave me reasons to not think about anything else. They were quite exhausting so when I came home from work what I did was sleep. No time to think about that guy who broke my heart. Nope. I'm not going to touch that. If my weekdays were filled with work things, my weekends were capitalized by this creature I—now am not so happily—called best friend. She forced me to get out of the bed early—it was noon, but when you were slaving your butt off ten hours a day on weekday wearing heels, noon is considered early—and dragged these said tired butt around to shop. And, thank God, it's a 'getting pampered time' this time. "Oh, God," I groan, feeling the heaven the masseuse brings me to as her hands moves to loosen my tight back muscles. Eh, scratch the last word. Do my back have muscles? I don't think I have one in my entire body. "Don't come," jests the girl who made torturing her best friend a hobby from the bed beside me. The masseuse, I caught a g
Always 40. Bryanna
"I think I'm done." I wake up from the stupor I was in and put the milkshake back onto the table at last. Then I clean my hands with the napkin. Dump the dirty paper on my plate. At the very last, I paste the fakest smile on my face and direct it to Mo. She knows. She knows what I'm honestly asking of her. Get me out of here. She slaps the same fake smile as quick. However it is a little slanted, making her look like she's battling constipation right now. My smile morphs into something a bit more real. Only her. I internally shake my head. But, I still need to get out of this hell, like five seconds ago."Linc, can we get these boxed? I'm sorry, but suddenly I have this urge to eat at home where I can stretch my legs and watch some bad TV with my best friend. You know, enjoying the good life."What the heck? What is she talking about? Only her. Indeed, only MY best friend. "Okay." Lincoln's voice pictures his bewilderment perfectly. I still don't have the nerve to look at him.
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