33 Things They Don't Tell You About Being Basic

27: Take Your Own Power Back

It was pure chance (and extreme judgmental behavior on my part) that Chris and I crossed paths once again after we had graduated high school, and even though we were never really friends back then, it was nice to see that we had somehow both turned out very similar. Of course, our circumstances were quite different, but at the heart of it all, we were the same.

Now that I didn't need him for anything anymore, I hoped we would still keep in contact. There was something about him that made me feel a little better about myself, whether it was the comparison or something else.

Bright and early at the ass crack of dawn, someone knocked at my bedroom door.

I looked at the clock. 7:30. I buried my head into my pillow.

"If you're finally giving up with your crafts, would you just throw all of that shit out already? I'm tired of it taking up every square centimeter of the couch," Blake said.

"You couldn't wait another thirty minutes until I got up to ask me that?" I asked.

"Nope. It's been driving me insane for weeks now."

I took in a long breath. "That's a huge part of my life, and you're asking me to throw it all out?"

"You made it perfectly clear that you're done with that dream, so it needs to get out of the shared living space at the very least," Blake said.

"I still have one more—" I trailed off, knowing damn well that there was no way he was still listening on the other side of the door. I shook my head. Ah yes, how could I have so quickly forgotten the feeling of being ignored?

I knew it wasn't a big deal to anyone but me, but it was still a sad occasion to hang up the crochet hooks—not permanently by any stretch, but as a dream of a way to make a living. Was I really the only one who could see that? Feel that?

But before I could dive into that negativity any more, I remembered that I could just drive, drive, drive away from everyone and everything now that I had a car again. There was something very comforting about that thought, and it was beginning to sound like a really good idea in my head.

There were a million places I wanted to go, and with a little bit more money in my account than I was used to, it was like someone upstairs was daring me to see what the world had to offer me. And by the world, I meant anywhere within a single tank of gas.

I smiled to myself. Maybe I could finally take that trip to the Jo-Ann Fabrics headquarters that I had always wanted.

Yeah. That sounded nice, even if I was supposed to be giving that part of my life up for now.

***

I was never one to beg for someone's attention. I either had it or I didn't, and Mason could not be an exception to my rule for myself.

Whether he wanted it or not, he still had my attention, though, and I watched him play through my open office door. Those extra nights George asked him to pick up at the winery stung me more than I ever thought they would, and I didn't think it would be comfortable for me by any stretch of the imagination.

Unless he was playing some kind of sick game with my feelings, I wasn't sure what I had done to make him lose every bit of interest that he had in me. Maybe he thought I was too fat or something. Men were ridiculous like that sometimes.

But before I could come up with any more reasons I could have possibly done something to make him act so cold, one of the waitresses came into my office.

"Some guy wants to speak with the manager. He didn't seem upset about anything, though," she said.

I sat up in my chair. "Then what does he want? To tell me that I'm doing a great job?"