I was comfortable here, but there was a whole world out there that at one time, I wanted to explore.
For the past few years, I couldn’t care less about anything other than my privacy, but the vast mountain now, started to seem a little small.
Am I trying to give myself an excuse to run, or break free? I thought, quickly deciding that I wasn’t trying to get away from Carrie.
In fact, I was trying to find a way to keep her.
I knew that if I was to stay up here, refusing to become part of society, a normal life would never be possible.
So, I needed to give myself a reason to leave, a reason to be normal again, without doing it strictly for Carrie.
If I was going to leave, I needed to ensure that even if things didn’t work out with Carrie, I wouldn’t resort to cutting myself off from humanity. Especially since, I knew I wouldn’t be able to come out here again. There would be too many memories and thus, it would be worse than staying in society.
Contemplating the events and actions taken throughout the past few days, I focused on the escalation. It had felt so right, so natural. It still did.
There was no doubt in my mind that I was more attracted to her now, than I was before we had made love.
I would do anything to be able to give her the chance I knew she deserved…but I also knew that I was getting ahead of myself.
I was certain that thinking this way would only give me false hope. I didn’t want to be up here in the mountains, away from everyone. I wished I felt differently about humanity. I wished I had the ability to forgive and to let go of the past but the fact that I still felt guilty, even though there was nothing to feel bad about was proof that I was incapable of becoming that person.
I couldn’t forgive, and I couldn’t forget. I had made my decision, and apparently, against my wishes and willingness to try, I was unable to commit to attempting to have a normal life ever again.
Why are you sabotaging what is probably your last chance at happiness? I thought, angrily as I pushed my way through the bushes. The physical attempt to relieve the stress wasn’t working. The movement only made me more aggravated and the inconsistency of my racing thoughts was maddening.
One minute, I wanted to figure out how to leave this mountain and try to rebuild my life, hopefully with Carrie by my side but the next, I was giving myself a million reasons why I should stay put.
I couldn’t make up my mind and all I wanted to do was get back to the cabin and go to sleep.
Usually, sex was good for that, but I supposed the guilt counteracted any release of tension the lovemaking had created; resulting in a clusterfuck of doubt, indecision, and confusion.
I certainly didn’t want to feel guilty, especially when there was nothing I could do about it. I had no one to forgive me or hate me for what I’ve done. There was no one that I had in my life that was worthy of judging me, or even forgiving me, because I hadn’t actually done anything wrong. Yet, my conscious seemed to think I had.
I walked around, mostly in a wide circle for about an hour, before I decided that I should return to the cabin.
While I didn’t want to go back, the longer I was out, the more stressed I became about something happening while I was away.
I tried to convince myself that Jake was there, and everything would be fine, but the anxiety I felt eventually got the better of me.
When I returned, I was surprised to find Carrie was awake.
“Hi,” she grinned, her eyes gazing at me amorously, “I hope you don’t mind. I figured I would try to actually walk around a little, but I got tired.”
Instead of sitting in the bed, she was now sitting in my chair. I was pleased to see that she had prepared tea for herself.
“No, it’s fine. Great, actually. I’m glad to see you’re able to get up and get around. How’s your ankle?” As I spoke, my eyes lowered to her leg, where I saw a clear view of her ankle.
“It’s good! You did a great job patching me up,” she exclaimed. “The only reason I had to stop was because I was tired. It didn’t have anything to do with my leg…Also, my tea was done.”
Playfully, she held up the mug and grinned widely.
In that snapshot of her, glowing with post-lovemaking excitement, sitting in my chair, hoisting up a mug, from tea she had figured out how to make herself in my quaint kitchen, Cassie looked perfectly at home.
“That’s good. I know it’s small, but you are welcome wherever you want to go,” I answered her, more to get my mind off the image that I had gotten of her, of what could possibly be the start of us, if I wasn’t so damn stubborn. “My chair, your chair. My tea, your tea.”
“Do you want some?” Cassie asked quickly, as though she felt guilty for not offering earlier.
I shook my head, “No, I’m fine, thanks.”