Always On My Mind Novels & Stories

My pulse wouldn’t slow down. It kept hammering against my ribs, loud enough that I was sure someone would notice. And underneath everything, my mind kept returning to it. The mark.

I have lost count of how many freqking times I had tried to control my mind from thinking about her, unfortunately, I was stuck at making progress with this. Isabella had been the constant thought of my everyday life, in fact, my every minute is filled with thoughts about her. I can barely go a minute without thoughts of her, and yes I can barely go a day without talking to her, or even hearing her voice after leaving the house. This was becoming explainable, carrying around the thoughts of a lady, living with it and enjoying the torments that came with it every passing minute. It felt unreal

but my mind was not focused on them. . . .

Yet, as I sit at my desk, my eyes glued to the computer screen, there’s a heaviness in my chest that I can’t shake. I’ve been here for hours now, meeting new colleagues, attending briefings, discussing strategy but my mind keeps wandering back to Elliott. How is he? Is he okay? I know I shouldn’t care. I know I shouldn’t let myself be distracted by thoughts of him. But I can’t help it. Even though I’m thousands of miles away from New York, his presence still lingers in my mind, haunting me.

The storm has passed. But something in the back of my mind nags me...storms always come back.

"It's just coffee, mom. I'm meeting someone." "Someone?" Her mother paused, her hands dropping to her sides as her eyes widened slightly. "Yolande, you just broke off a ten year engagement a week ago. Don is still calling the house line because you blocked his mobile number. Who on earth are you meeting for coffee at one o'clock on a Monday afternoon?"

More sobs shudder through me as my mind keeps racing. What do I do?

“I’ll keep that in mind.” The weight of my earlier conversation still lingered at the back of my mind, but for now, at least for a moment, I let myself enjoy the distraction. Tomorrow will bring its own problems.

Shit, why do I keep resorting back to that damn middle school therapist? I look once again at the beauty staring up at me from the photo. I’ve already been having problems getting her out of my mind. How on earth am I going to focus on anything but her now. I stare so long, I almost forget there is a letter in my hands waiting to be read. Dear Joel,

Mick always drops a message, no matter how occupied he is. I take a deep breath and attempt to write, but the words elude me. My mind is preoccupied with concern for Michael. Something feels off, and I can't shake the feeling that he needs me. With trembling fingers, I dial his number once more, only to be met with voicemail yet again. I try to concentrate on writing with the hope to distract myself but nothing is coming to my head.