I Dont Dance (An ICONic Boyz Love Story)

I Don't Dance ~ Chapter 15

They say that we only appreciate things once they’re gone. But what if they’ve been               gone for so long you can’t remember them?

I felt sound be sucked out of the room. Like a giant vacuum cleaner sucking everything and everyone up with it. My body felt weightless and the numbness kicked in. It was like being punched in the stomach until your stomach turned to putty. And even as I think of ways to describe the feeling the words don’t seem to be able to capture it.

I felt my shoulder being tugged at. Voices speaking to me, but they were so far away I couldn’t reach them.

Even if I wanted to.

But I didn’t

And just as fast as that vacuum cleaner had sucked me in, it puked me back out.

“I’m going mom! I’m not leaving her to deal with this on her own.” I sawMontanalook at her mom with certain fierceness to her.

 I looked up to my mother who just nodded her head toMontana’s mom in approval.

“We can take her with us, but we need to leave now.”

Montanaran upstairs to her room and in less than five minutes she was back down with two blue plaid suit cases.

She grabbed my shoulder as we left her house.

My brain couldn’t fully wrap itself around the words my mother had said.

I had heard her say them.

I knew what they meant.

I understood them.

But they wouldn’t go in me. It was like the transparent blanket of numbness that had covered me wouldn’t let it sink in.

I didn’t even notice when we boarded the plane. Everything was surreal and still. Like if this was some kind of sick movie that I was watching through someone else’s eyes. This was someone else’s reality, someone else’s pain.

                                                                       If only.

It was just like everything had been when we left it. Life inCaliforniahad gone on without me. And I had gone without it. Yet it brought me back, it brought me back to a cruel reality.

I think I finally started feeling the pain when I had to put on that black dress. It was short, accentuated my long legs and had a small sheer, sparkly fabric surrounding the hem of it. A satin black bow tied it on the back and a low scoop neck with crystal beading to finish it off. On any other occasion this might have been a beautiful little black dress. But I hated it. I wanted to rip it off me. I refused to talk to my mother about my father.Montanatried comforting me or getting me to talk. But I was numb. I only wanted to be numb of emotion and of anything that might resemble feeling.