Yellow thongs aren’t exactly my thing.
Drew’s favorite color is yellow.
I put it back on the shelf, remaining strong willed.
Do I expect him to see me wearing it?
Do I expect to be intimate with him again?
Questions, too many of them, swirling in my head ready to cause an explosion.
And when I reach the checkout, I slip it back into my basket.
I guess, I just answered that question.
Seeing him is hard. Even with a massive hangover, he looks so beautiful. He’d come back from the gym covered in sweat and wearing those shorts that made his legs look muscular and sexy. His tank’s drenched which only shows off his bulky arms.
After we discuss last night and his failure to remember a single thing, I want to scream at the top of my lungs and remind him of what he’s done to me. What I allowed him to do. I want nothing more than to refresh his memory even if it means getting down on all fours and re-enacting the moment.
But that would be greedy. Just because I experienced the best orgasm of my life doesn’t mean a single damn thing.
There—I’ve admitted it.
Playing the avoidance game has worked well for me until he’s dragged me out to go grocery shopping.
I bit my tongue as hard as I could channeling out all these unwarranted thoughts.
Throughout our grocery trip, Drew keeps rambling on about everything and anything not related to the wedding. I pretend to listen, but every time he bends over or pulls up close to me, my body betrays me and refuses to ignore how much I want him.
And in the end, I give up.
He wants everything to go back to normal between us. We are friends. He can’t have made that any clearer to me.
Thank God, it’s over.
He has a late shift at the hospital and left shortly after we arrived back home a short time ago.
Being alone, as much as I want it, gives me too much time to think.
Jess has been texting me, asking me if I have made a decision.
Drew sent me a couple more texts, just checking in to make sure we’re still okay.
Gigi came over with some ice cream, the answer to all my problems. I welcome that until I find out it isn’t really ice cream but rather some soy substitute.
From every direction, every angle, I feel pressure to make decisions, life-altering ones, in the space of a short time. Ignorance is bliss.
The only thing that comforts me is my music, and so, I scrolled through my iPod and listen to P!nk’s album again. I normally don’t listen to pop music released after 1989, but tonight, I want to try something different.
I want to be someone different.
***
I keep to myself for most of the week. Jess hasn’t relented, his texts bordering on obsessive. I should have just said no to getting back together, but instead, I keep on telling him I need more time to process.
Apparently, time is of the essence, with him giving me yet another ultimatum. I choose to ignore his childish bribes, deleting his text messages until I can think about the whole situation properly.
Work’s extremely busy, starting the week off with a mountain of tasks to get through with ridiculous deadlines.