Guilty

Chapter 1

I've been here for about a month and nothing happens in this part of the country. I always thought New York was the reason my writing suddenly sucked at this point. I guessed that I got tired of the noises and the business in the city all the time.

So I thought driving five hours to that little town would bring back the good old Emily Dickinson of five years ago. Jessica, my best friend, had a friend whose parents needed to move out so they were selling their house. When Jessica talked about the place, it seemed like she was describing a little heaven on earth. Plus, she begged me to buy it.

She promised that I'd love it and assured the seller it was a done deal. The fact wasn't that I didn't like it, I just didn't see the need for it. I was looking for a place but not in the middle of nowhere.

I talked to my parents about it and like every good decision I've ever taken in my life, they talked me into it and it often turned out great. I thought life was wonderful in New York and this house was useless, I was just going to have to sell it, maybe do so at a better price.

According to the pictures, it just needed some remodeling: some furniture, a carpet, some decorating belongings. About five months after I bought it, my life went from average then turned chaotic.

First, it was my job; they told me if I didn't come up with a book by the end of the year, they would have to let me go. Next, it was Jessica that had to go to London for God knows what her job is making her do for two years.

I stopped listening after she said she was leaving. Then, I lost my inspiration, and to top that I got dumped by my boyfriend for some model. Don't get me wrong; I was never a « strings » person. The guy I lost my virginity to in high school told me: " You wouldn't mind if we stay friends and act like this never happened right? " and I agreed.

We would just mess around and go our separate ways. I never knew what he thought of me or about what we were doing but I didn't care to ask since he never cared about what I thought either.

Somehow guys made it easier for me; It was sex and then we stayed cool. In college and through my whole career, I had nobody hung up on me.

Jessica always said that I lacked standards, and that's why my love life is like that. I'd always say "why am I the one who should want them to stay, why can't they just want to stay?" and she would tease with a sad face reminiscing in her head all she'd learned about women throughout history "I don't know Lee, the world has just always been this unfair to us, women."

Even in Women, there's the word  'men' like we need them. Last I checked they needed us more" and we would both burst out in laughter. She had always been a feminist. I guess that's why she had standards.

I met her in college, she invited me to fight for some woman's salary cause. She had always been so vigorous, focused, determined, and smart. Sometimes I felt like my mom liked her more than she liked me. Therefore, when Marc wanted to go exclusive I played along. "He wanted to stay," I told myself.

If I was superstitious, I would have thought this house brought a curse upon me. But damn you, Marc, I could still be having great sex now. Although thinking about it now, our relationship sucked because all I can remember was the hot sex that I'm starting to miss. Darn! It was nice sex.

"Okay! Stop thinking about sex." I told myself out loud, then I suspiciously looked around as if they were anyone to hear me even though I was screaming the word "sex".

After Marc left, I spent nights drinking wine and mornings making excuses to not wake up for about two weeks. I would just order food and try to angrily write about how love sucked or the idea that we have of it that often misleads us.