Memoirs of a discontented teen

Chapter 12

"The angels are lost in perpetual contemplation of an infinite glory." - Unknown.

Everything is distorted. I've reached a disconnect with myself and reality. No, there is no such thing as reality. The more I see the less I know for sure. Right now, there is only my version of it which is fundamentally my perception. Perception for me is only a barrier. And that barrier is slowly starting to dissipate. It's melting away like snow on a fire. And I can clearly see the b.s right in front of me, literally.

I can't believe that I was so sure that I had finally gotten it right this time. Everything felt so real. I'm always hyper-analytical about a lot of things but he never raised any red flags for me to think for a second that anything could be wrong. Things were normal, not that unrealistic movie romance stuff. I was going through the same everyday routines but it was different; better, because he was in it.

Physically, he was perfect. To think that he was flawed at a fault was unfathomable. Somehow I fooled myself into thinking our relationship was something it was not. I formed an incredible thing with an incredible person. A person who is already taken.

I watched him absentmindedly shut his laptop , put it on the
nightstand, and gave me his full attention."Please say something.", he said.

I got up and paced the room up and down in frustration with my forehead puckered. I could feel his gaze on me and I tried to 'not look while looking' .

I shrank slightly, slumping my shoulders and frowning heavily.
"Whats her name? Why didn't you tell me about her earlier? Why am I even here Zakari?", I said finally, still not meeting his gaze.

"Her name is Avery. I wanted to tell you but I didn't want to ruin what was going on between us.", it sounded like b.s when he said it, with his palms open and facing upward.

"What in the actual fuck is going on between us Zakari? I don't even know what I am to you! Am I just some disposable thing to you? A piece of entertainment that's new and exciting for you when you get bored? Something to reassure you that you "still got it" ! Is that why I'm here?", I questioned. I bit my tongue trying to hold back the tears that threatened to leave me eyes.

"C'mon you know that's not how I feel about you. I told you the first day we met that I like you and I still do. I don't know what to tell you. I'm sorry.", he said, getting on his feet and making his way towards me.

"Save your sorry Zakari. What am I supposed to do with it? I don't need it. I've heard enough of "I'm sorry" to last me a lifetime. So you can keep yours, in fact wrap it up nice and tight, lubricate it if you like and shove it up your rectum because I can't take another sorry."

He said nothing, he bent his head down letting me get all my anger out.

"I'm such an idiot. I want.. I wanted memories.. moments with you Z. I did't want the same routine. I wanted to go on crazy adventures with you. I wanted to hear about your life. I wanted to take long drives with you, the kind where we don't even know where we're going and we get to discover new places together. I wanted you to challenge me, make me see things differently and have meaningful conversations with you. I didn't want to be bored by you. I wanted you to spoil me. But not always because I'm not a needy girl. I wouldn't need this everyday. Some days I'd just be content laying next to you watching Game of Thrones, snuggled against your chest fighting for the bucket of buttered pop corn between us-"

I hadn't even realized that I had started crying. I wiped away the tears that were rolling down my cheeks. This wasn't the picture perfect crying that you see in the movies. I had never mastered how to cry with style. Maybe if I had it would've been easier for me to cry in front of people.

I could feel my eyes begin to swell, I was pretty sure that my eyes had turned red at this point. I was unable to breath, to speak, everything is a blur. There's a weight on my chest and a lump in my throat. I was overwhelmed with shame. Like a tree stripped of its bark, I was completely naked and vulnerable in front of him. And I hated it.

I wasn't even entirely mad at him. This was the bottled up emotions I've been carying for the past month. The pain was still an open wound. Not an entirely pleasant feeling.

Then I felt his thumb on my cheek following the wet track, down my face to my wobbling chin. He angled my face towards him and our eyes met. My breath stuttered and new tears dripped down my cheeks.

"I want this. Everything was real and we will do all those things.", he said, his expression more serious than I'd ever seen it. His voice implied sexual desire the way an alto saxophone implies jazz.

I could feel his heart beating as he pushed himself against me.

I take a few steps back trying to create some space between us, my heart thudding against my chest, the sound of it roared in my ears.

He comes close, my back is against the wall now and when I think he might kiss me, he tilts his head, his warm breath hitting my neck. I try to push him back, I know this is not right but he's too strong for me.

He took me by the nape of my neck, softly blew hair from my ear and kissed me neck hard, crumbling my resistance. This is going to leave a mark. When his hands grip my waist my hands start to do his bidding.

Zakari's hands press deeper in  waist, pushing me harder against the wall. He's in control and breathing so hard, he hoists me up, into his arms, and my legs wrap around his hips and then he stops.

I try to plant my feet on the ground and get as far away from him as I possibly can but his grip on me gets tighter. Once again I am trapped. He's making me wait and I can hardly bare it. Then our lips meet and he forces
his tongue into my mouth and kisses me vigorously.

I managed to bite his lip
and he jerked away, retaining his hold on me. A grin creased my lips and he kissed me again.

There is no single feeling as simultaneously exciting and infuriating as this. I've come to life.
...

As soon as I got home I went up to the bathroom to check my face and neck. I was right –  my eyes were a little red and swollen and I had faint red marks on my neck. I take a quick shower, hoping I can wash away his touch and scent. I feel disgusted with myself.

I walk into my room with my towel wrapped around me tight. At the foot of my bed is my table where my laptop is. I walk briskly to it and put the laptop on my lap while I get comfortable on my bed.

I quickly log into my Facebook account and start searching for 'Avery', looking for new information to irrationally hate her.

And there she was, his comfort, his stability, his girlfriend. I considered the fact that she was pretty to be a real slap in the face.

She was easy to find and her wall was plastered with evidence of their relationship. Pictures, videos and statuses that I had never seen, Zakari probably hid them all from his wall.

Growing up with Inspector Gadget, Nancy Drew, Hardy Boys and Scooby-Doo made me an amazing detective. And with all the time I spent on her wall I managed to find out that they had been dating for 3 years and even got a puppy together and much more that made me feel sick to my stomach.

But is longevity really the sign of a successful and happy relationship? Maybe they're stuck in a rut and sitting in mediocre love. Am I to blame for all of this? Logically it'd make no sense why the weight of the blame and the responsibility should lay solely on me. Am I a terrible person though? Or am I doing her a favor by affirming the fact that the boyfriend she chose is actually desirable?

I immediately think of Lorraine and how much I hated her when I found out that Jaheem had cheated on me with her. All the thoughts I had of wanting to punch her in the face seem completely and utterly stupid now. But it doesn't stop me from feeling overwhelmed with shame. I was ashamed that my actions exposed my
hypocrisy.

There's only one person who can stop me from tripping down the rabbit hole. I scroll down my list of friends online and send an "SOS" to Carlos.

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