When I got home, I had this sense of urgency overtaking me. I needed to read those diary entries and I needed to read them fast. The faster I read them, the closer I could get to Eleanor and God, did I want to be close to her. I wanted to get inside...
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I wasted no time scheduling another walk with Eleanor in the brilliant app that gave me access to her phone number. Maybe not that smart of a decision on Euphoric Canine's part, giving personal information to strangers, including her last name. Blackwood.
I supposed they were assuming their customers weren't going to use this tool in the way that I was using it, but that doesn't matter. That's not the point.
The first thing I did was search up the origin of her last name. Blackwood is Scottish.
The next thing I did was search Eleanor Blackwood on google search. Instantly, I was given about a dozen links that lead to various social media websites, like Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, Tumblr, even Pinterest.
After a few clicks here and there, I found her account on most websites. I was mostly fascinated with her Instagram, where it seemed like a tell-all journal. Every post held 10 photos, where she showed off what seemed to be every moment of each day throughout her week.
It was cute. I liked how raw and open she was with the world. It made it easier for me to get to know her.
She liked trying out new food places and lots and lots of teas. She loved her job and nearly every post had at least one picture of a happy dog on one of her walks. She loved plants, it seemed that her apartment was filled with them. The air must be fresh there, not like my apartment. Maybe I should buy a couple plants.
She liked vinyl and old music, her record player was on display in the corner of her living room. The Beatles, The Supremes, Electric Light Orchestra, Steely Dan, Al Green. I was familiar with most of these.
She was a breath of fresh air in my world and I wanted to keep breathing her in.
I copied Eleanor's phone number into my own phone and sent her a text.
Would tomorrow work for a walk with Nyla? I think she misses you.
Was that too much? It was too much.
Would tomorrow work for a walk with Nyla?
I thought that was less intense. I pretended to work, when in reality I was just secretly waiting for a reply back from her, staring at my computer, not doing anything.
My heart jumped when I heard a buzz.
Of course! Same time?
My heart was racing and I didn't even know why.
Yes, 1pm is great! Thank you!
No. Too many exclamation points.
Yes, 1pm is great. Thank you!
That's better, I thought.
No problem :) See you then.
I stared at the smiley face she sent me for maybe fourty-five seconds. I wondered if she sent smiley faces to all her clients when setting up appointments. It then made me wonder if she invited all her clients on walks with her. She mustn't... It must just be for me.
I finished off my day of work before getting into bed, visions of Eleanor dancing across my mind like scenes from a movie that I was trying to remember but couldn't quite.
I haven't seen enough of her, I haven't talked long enough with her. I yearn for more.
Why did I feel this way?
There was something about her, something that made my body ache but in a good way, something that made me have a tingle throughout my entire body, starting at my toes and then travelling up to my ears.
I imagined I also gave her these feelings, only I didn't know. I could only hope.
