Never Really Over (Bremmy 3)

Chapterish 53

...

"So here's a Q for you," Zoë announces, appearing from down the hallway.

We just finished our last class of the night and cancelled the 7 PM so we could clean and restock our product.

"Hmm?" I look up from my mat, happy to be distracted from my grown-out pedicure.

"It's something I read in a self-help book or self-discover -I don't know." She flips her hand. "But it's supposed to help ...realign."

"I need realigning?" I cock an eyebrow.

"You might. Mentally, at least." She shrugs.

"Girl, it's been like 5 days. What I need is rest. And to not think about it," I tell her.

"I know. But come on, just try it. Picture yourself in 10 years. What you look like, where you're at. Who else is there. Picture your whole dream life."

"Dream life?" I ask, disrupting my own mental image.

"Yea, like what's your dream life? Idealism to a T. Everything you want right now. And can you see yourself wanting those same things in 10 more years. In 20? 30?"

"Let's hope I'm dead by then," I joke.

"I mean it, Emmy," Zoë ignores my dark humor. "You don't need to say it out loud. Just think it. And keep thinking it. And see if it changes."

"I'll try," I promise. She narrows her eyes. "I'll try right now."

"Better," she smiles. "Are you sure you're okay? If you want to chat about it-"

"I know. And I appreciate you," I smile back. "But you know I prefer to internalize my shit."

"Boy, do I." She shakes her head in disbelief.

Zoë carries the box of oils back to the corner rack and starts refilling the shelves. I bring my attention back to my breathing, back to my horrid cantaloupe toenails.

"See if it changes." I repeat quietly. "If it changes."

I can do that.

Lying back down, I tuck my tailbone under and start stretching my legs. I focus on my deep breaths, on finding my center zen.

What do I want from my life in 10 years?

Holy shit, I'll be 40. That's my first thought.

It's like -I don't know. The last few years -the last 10 really -have been flying by in one blur of color. I'm watching it all go. I blinked and I missed it, but I wasn't looking anyway.

I don't want to be able to say the same thing in another decade.

Maybe it's because it's been a few days -days fueled solely by a nice combo of coffee and adrenaline -but it hits me now. I'm alone. Alone alone. And I will miss Josh and things he brought to my life.

At least it's September now. September seems to always blanket me in a calm that other months do not. Maybe this time around, September will bring some clarity too.

Lauren had to postpone her group call -something I was simultaneously happy and disappointed about. It's rescheduled for tonight, so at the very least I have that to look forward to.

"Hey, I'm going to take off now. I blew out the volcano candle in the back. Text me if you need anything or even if you don't and just want to. And remember, I'm taking BOTH early classes tomorrow. You deserve a good sleep in." Zoë blows me a kiss from the door.

"Thanks, Zoë. You're too good." I wave at her.

I gather up my things and decide to leave myself. I've had all the zen I'm going to find today. There are several new texts waiting for me on my walk home.

Trix. Meg. Trix. Lauren. Travis.

I open the group one first, seeing Lauren remind us all of the call tonight. 8 PM my time, 11 PM their time. It's late for them, but the only time it works. Then I see Trix's message, which is actually a picture of Isla.

I still haven't told Trix or Meg about Josh dumping my ass in the car. It's easier to hide it from them, to pretend everything's fine. Plus, I don't want to make this call (or week or month) about me. It's Lauren and Brody's time to shine.

The alarm rings on my phone prompting me to hop out of the shower. I spray some beachy salt spritz into my hair and decide to just let it air dry. With my leftover vegetable dumplings and iced matcha latte in-hand, I settle onto my couch.

A once-over in my selfie camera shows me I have no broccoli stuck in my teeth. I apply a thin layer of lip gloss and push my eyebrows up. I look haggard as hell, but I guess this is 30. I'll blame it on the lighting.

Lauren's face lights up my screen with an invitation to join #OneForTheBrooks.

I close my eyes and breathe. When I reopen them, my phony smile also reappears. It already hurts my cheeks. You'd think I'd be used to it by now.

I press the Accept button and hear all the audios start to sync up.

Here goes nothing.

...

Who is ready for the group call?!

These next few chapterishes are some of my fave. They were so fun to write. It's always a good time when I get to write the whole group together.

As always, your love/support means the abso most. Keep commenting. Keep tagging more friends. Keep spreading the Bremmy love. And don't forget to vote!

Kat 🤍