The sad thing is that when I finally got what I wanted it turned out it wasn't what I needed nor was it what I'd actually hoped for. Because I never wanted Harry to go, I just wanted him to want me as much as I wanted him, and I wanted him to cut all ties with Kaia even if that meant cutting all ties with his parents too. Am I selfish for thinking that?
A month and a half has passed since I last saw Harry. He emailed me a recommendation letter a month ago. That was all he sent. He simply attached a Word-file in the email which contained a lof of nice words.
Nice.
I'm not sure why I even read it. Clearly, he wasn't going to apologise or tell me that he loved me or even that he missed me, yet part of me hoped everything that we had wasn't completely gone. I was wrong. He should have written: 'by the way she's a good bang too'. Then again I wouldn't know. As far as I know I haven't been anything special. When sleeping with two women at the same time, one is sure to be satisfied one way or the other. That doesn't mean he gets his fix every time though. Perhaps, it's all been fake on his part, I mean our relationship or whatever it was surely seems fake to me now. I'm pissed by his email. I'm not sure what he's trying to accomplish. I don't need his stupid recommendation letter. Perhaps, he wants to stay on my good side, but I'm furious with him for not even having the decency to address me personally, and I'm not sure he'll ever be on my good side again. I wanted to end it so many times, and he told me not to. He said he loved me, and then he tells me he knocked up someone else. I know he never promised me anything and I know he was with Kaia this entire time, I just didn't expect him to be sleeping with her. I feel like he has been cheating on me with her and not the other way around. It feels like I wasn't worth anything to him. Maybe I wasn't. God, why did I have to be so fucking naive to think I was actually enough for a man like Harry to want to break things off with his fiancée?
The continuous vibration of my phone puts me on edge. The word 'Mum' flashes on the screen. I need to pick up because I never dodge her calls, but I'm honestly in no mood to talk to her, and when she last called I managed getting out of the call quite quickly unable to talk to her. I was in too much of an emotional state at the time having just read Harry's stupid email. Why does she always have this bad timing?
"Hi mum," I say after letting my finger slide across the screen. I have to take a deep breath not to start crying. I don't want her to know what's going on, but somehow my mum always hold that power over me. I can be completely fine when talking to someone else sounding confident and not letting my emotions get the best of me, and then when I'm talking to her it's like I'm drowning trying desperately to breathe while my subconscious is screaming 'help me' and then I feel the tears press on. I don't know why that is. Perhaps because you spend so much of your life being dependent on her, and because throughout your childhood she's always there to mend the pieces. I want her to put on a plaster and tell me that everything will be okay, although I'm not naive enough any longer to think she'll actually be right. Obviously my dad was there in my childhood too, but somehow he doesn't hold the same power over me that she does. Her voice is an immediate trigger.
"Hey love, just calling to see how you're doing. It's been ages since we last talked," she says and I just want to scream; 'help me, mum. I'm drowning. I don't know what to do. Fix me.' She has done it hundred of times before, but I'm no longer a kid with a scraped knee, and she can't take away the psychical pain I'm feeling although I desperately wish she could.
"I'm fine," I say although the lump in my throat is making it harder to talk, and I'm on the verge of tears.
"How's work?"
I take a deep breath. "It wasn't working out," I say trying to keep the talking to a minimum. Why does she need to bring that up immediately? Why is it that she's always so concerned about my work.
"Why not? You know, I'm not sure you can live off of photography. It's good for you to try something different." It's the same old song that I've heard her sing a million times. For some reason she never gets tired of singing it.
"I know," I say giving her what she wants. "I tried it, wasn't for me," I say wiping away a tear. I'm surprised she can't hear my voice cracking, or perhaps she can but is deliberately trying to ignore it.
"But did you really give it a chance?" She asks, and I want to scream at her to let it go but if I do I'll let her know that something's off, and I want to spare us both for that conversation. I don't want her to think bad of me, and I don't think she'd be particularly happy if I told her I'd been seeing someone in a relationship. I really want to spare us both from that disappointed look, I know she'd give me if I told her the truth. I don't want to be that kind of woman. The other woman. I guess that is exactly what I am though. Or was, yet I want to change that. This really isn't me.
"Yes, mum. But it wasn't working out. The boss and I don't really see eye-to-eye," mentioning Harry like this sends me into an emotional state I don't want to be in. I don't know why he continues to hold so much power over me. My body is trembling. If only she could understand that I'm heartbroken.
"I hope it wasn't due to your stubbornness that you got fired."
"I quit," I correct her. "Mum, I don't want to talk about it, okay?" I say sighing. Why is it that she just assumes that I was the problem? I love my mum, but sometimes she's such a pain in the arse. I'm sure she says the same about me, maybe the reason we so easily get on each other's nerves is because we are too alike.
"Okay. So did you meet-"
"No, mum," I lie. I don't want to discuss this matter now. I don't want to tell her about everything that's been going on in my life for the past five months or so. "Mum, I'm meeting Maddie. Tell dad I say hi. See ya," I say trying not to cut her off too abruptly.
"Will do. Take care, Leah," she says, and I hang up the phone. I take a deep breath. My tears won't stop from falling. Why is it that she always has to ask if I've met someone. Whenever I meet someone that I can take to meet my parents I will.
I feel a pair of hands on my shoulders and I jump instantly. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you. What's wrong?" Jared asks, and I look into his blue eyes feeling guilty as I wrap my arms around his bare torso from the barstool I'm sitting on. His half-naked body is not stirring up anything inside of me the way Harry's would, and it really kills me that it isn't. Why is it that I can't just let myself fall completely for Jared? I've been seeing him for around three weeks now. I met him one time I was out with Bonnie. I was an emotional mess that night. I guess I don't take my alcohol too well considering I never go out because I had too much to drink, and Jared found me throwing up on George St and ended up holding my hair for me. I was hammered, but hit on him for being so sweet to me. I went home with him that night, but we didn't sleep together. Or technically we did but that was all we did. When I asked him afterwards why he didn't want to have sex with me, he told me he didn't want to take advantage of me in the state I was in. I swear if there was more guys like him in the world, the world would be a better place. He truly is a gentleman. The fact that I even offered myself to him like that is beyond me. Things surely has changed. Half a year ago, I would never have done anything like this.
"You know you can talk to me," he whispers stroking my hair, and I hate myself for what I'm doing to him. I'm letting him on, making him think I'm interested. And I think part of me wants to be, but the other is just desperately holding on to anything it can scared of feeling lonely again. He's good for me, maybe even too good, but all I can think of is Harry. Perhaps the reason as to why I'm holding on is because I've come to realise that I don't sleep well alone. Stupid Harry for changing everything in my life.
"I honestly don't feel like talking about it. Remember, when we met and I told you I just got out of something?" I ask pulling back and wipe away my tears. He nods and pulls a string of hair behind my ear. Nothing. I don't even get goosebumps or even just a slight tingle by his touch. There's nothing as much as I wish there to be.
"Were you talking to your mum?"
I nod, the lump in my throat preventing any sound from escaping my throat.
"Is she the reason you're this upset?" He asks, and I sigh. I want to spill my guts to him, but he does not know the relation Harry and I had, and I don't want him to think of me differently. I'm not sure telling someone you've been in a relationship with your boss who's engaged goes well with anybody. I mean Bonnie wasn't particularly pleased when I told her. And if people knew I was sleeping with my boss they would all look at me differently. Because that is the oldest cliché in the world.
"Yes and no. It's not her that I'm upset with, but she just brought up some things I'd rather forget. Can you just make me forget?" I ask, my eyes practically begging and I'm honestly scared of myself. I don't trust myself at the moment, and I can't see myself in this, yet I let myself go even further as I did with Harry. Why is it that we do messed up things when we don't want to be alone? If I had my heart in the right place I'd tell him to go and to end whatever we have right here and now, but instead I lean against his arm and stare at him hopelessly.
He grabs my hand. He doesn't need any further explanation. He knows, and I can't help but wonder when I've become this desperate, dependent person.
Staring empty eyed at the ocean, I feel Bonnie's hand nudge my shoulder. "Talk to me. How's it going with mr. Nice."
"Don't call him that," I say sending her a quick glance. I honestly can't tell if she's saying it as a good or a bad thing.
"But he is isn't he?"
"That's the problem," I sigh watching people pass us thinking that their lives are most likely much less troublesome and complicated than mine is.
"How's that a problem?"
"He is drowning me in heart and kissing emojis, and he never has something bad to say, ever. He keeps texting me asking me how I am. Like we can't go a day without him texting me. I feel suffocated," I confess yet saying the words out loud make it sound like I'm the problem, and maybe I am, but it all just seems too artificial. I mean if he likes me that much why doesn't he show me, I don't need a thousand heart emojis to tell me this.
"It sounds like you're making a bigger deal out of this than it is. I think he is good for you. You need someone nice. Someone who treats you right."
"But what if I don't want to be treated right?" I say before rethinking the words. That came out wrong, although right now I don't even care.
"You're kidding, right?"
I shrug. "I don't even know anymore. I know he's a good guy, and he wants me for me. At least it seems that way. I mean I don't really know him that well. But all I can think of is everything he's not. He doesn't do anything for me, sexually."
"What do you mean? You don't have sex?"
"We do. But I'm not attracted to him - like," I pause trying to find the right words. "he doesn't turn me on. When he walks around bare chested I feel nothing. It's not supposed to be like that is it?"
"Love, you don't necessarily fall for someone immediately," she says. I know she only wants me to be happy, but it's like she's not hearing what I'm saying. I don't think Jared is good for me either. And the instant I met Harry I felt something although I probably didn't know what it was at the time.
"I know," I bite my lip. "But aren't I supposed to orgasm?"
"What?" She narrows her eyes at me, and I can't help but let out a laugh. "He doesn't make you come?"
"No. He doesn't even try. It's just missionary and it's over rather quickly. Earlier today my mum called, and she brought up Harry although indirectly, she wanted to know about my job. I was a mess, and I told Jared to make me forget. It lasted around five minutes and I didn't come. The only time I come is with myself. I'm not even sure what he would think if I started rubbing myself off while we did it," I confess. The reason he is so nice is probably to make up for everything that he doesn't know how to do," I say. I love that Bonnie and I can talk so openly to one another.
She chuckles, "Sorry, but that sounds rather comic."
"It is. Like it sounds like something from a stupid chick flick. God, I sound like such a bitch. He might just be inexperienced. Hell, so was I five months ago. But even if he did make me come, I think it would take some time, I mean I can't just change the fact that he does nothing for me."
"Mind me asking, but why did you let it get this far in the first place? It sounds like you've let him on although you don't want things to get any further between you."
"I don't want to be alone. I miss him," I confess, and she rubs the back of my hand. She knows exactly who I'm talking about and it isn't Jared.
"But leading him on isn't right. I understand that you're hurt and that you might feel lonely, but if you already know that things between you aren't getting any further I think it's better if you stopped it right now," she says and although I know she's right I just don't know how to do it. I've never broken up with anyone before, and although we aren't technically in a relationship I really don't want to hurt him. Suddenly, I feel a lump in my throat. I feel like shit. I'm a terrible person for letting him on, and I'm also going to be a terrible person when I tell him we can't continue like this. Either way I'm going to feel like a really shitty person, and the only one I can blame is myself, or perhaps Harry. At least a little, although Harry really doesn't have anything to do with with Jared. Then again if I had never let myself fall for Harry, I would most likely never have taken the next step with Jared. But perhaps that's all part of life. At least now I know what to do and what not to do in the future. And at least I'm trying to let myself feel vulnerable instead of just staying inside my bubble protecting myself from everything and everyone afraid I'll get my heart broken again. I can't live the rest of my life in the fear of getting heartbroken, although life sometimes seems easier if I could, but I'm not sure that's a life I'd want to live.
"I know. It's not fair on either of us. I honestly don't recognise myself anymore. I'm using him and I'm doing nothing to change it. How is it that I've suddenly turned into this horrible person?"
"You're not a horrible person, Leah," she says rubbing my knee. "But sometimes we all just need a little push in the right direction."