My mind lingers on who this Eve may be to Jake. Just because we are on a break from one another doesn't mean that we are seeing other people, does it?
The thought comes and goes as the days pass in a blur. I'm still that scared turtle hiding in my shell. Life has been passing me by numbly. I hurt, but this is how I choose to deal with it. On my own.
I miss my conversations with Drake, Jake, and my dad.
I miss Jake's touch.
I miss Jake's love the most.
Thanksgiving comes, so I'm off to see my father.
10
Jake
Between school, work, and hockey, I have been busy. But I still have time to think about Emily. I miss her like crazy.
My heart is ripped to shreds. It's only been a few days, but it feels so much longer. My fingers have lingered over the talk button on my phone, but I haven't dared call her. Drake is upset with me over the situation with Emily and myself. However, he cheers up when Dad drops him off for a day with Emily.
When I get a phone call from Mike, I know I must do something. He informs me that Emily walks around like an unsmiling zombie and doesn't speak unless spoken too.
She's not speaking verbally, but, according to Drake, she is quite the texter. Most likely to the girls, but it could very well be Kyle.
We are broken up, I guess. So she can see whomever she'd like. Talk to whomever she'd like. Be with whomever she'd like. That person obviously isn't me. I haven't so much as seen her at one of my games, much less talked to her.
I think of how I've been spending my time lately. A list forms in my head.
1. Thinking of Emily
2. Working
3. Wishing I was with Emily
4. Playing hockey
5. School
6. Thinking of Emily and wishing I was with her
She is my Sweetness and I haven't spoken with her in days. The soothing sounds of Clay Walker's song Fall fill my ears as I drive home from the store. A plan begins to form in my head.
I text Emily and ask her to come over because we need to talk and get this settled. I sit in the middle of my bed with my legs open in a V-like manner and have my iHome ready to go. Soon, the door opens and my beautiful Emily slowly walks inside. She closes it behind her and waits by the door.
“Come here,” I instruct with a voice full of authority.
She walks over to the bed and sits on the edge.
“No. Here.”
I point to the spot in-between my legs. Emily does so and tenses as my hands rest on her shoulders. I bring my lips close to her ear and tell her, “Listen to every single word of this song.” Leaning over, I press play.
“Oh, look, there you go again
Puttin' on that smile again.
Even though I know you've had a bad day.”
The song repeats and we listen again. I begin to massage her shoulders in an attempt to make her loosen up. The fourth time, she leans into me, her tense shoulders at ease. Fifth time the song plays, she cradles one side of my face with a hand. Tears stream down her cheeks.