#i wish i could tell the person sobbing on their bathroom floor in January about how she doesnt stop. how she manages to be everything

[arsenicflame]

i do think being unconditionally loved is an experience that can be so so healing actually. it cant ever fix anything alone but to feel loved and valued and considered is something that makes carrying burdens just that little bit easier. to trust that youre someone they think about when youre not around, because they tell you. to feel like youre someone important to them because they tell you. to feel safe in knowing youre not being too intense, too annoying, too much, because everything you offer is offered right back without a seconds hesitation. this isnt something i ever thought id get to have, but i found it when i wasnt even looking. and no, it still isnt easy. it doesn't change most things. but it gives you a reason to try.

[atths--twice]

Onto the continuation of the Ghouli episode...

Chapter 35 

Finding Solace

Arriving home, Scully and Mulder talk and find strength and peace within themselves and each other.

January 2018

Scully trudged bone wearily, up the front steps to their, no ... not theirs - Mulder’s home. For some reason that thought made her feel sadder than all that had transpired the last few days. This was still not her home. It was not theirs.

Not yet.

She stopped at the top of the stairs and leaned against the railing of the porch. She held the videotape in her hand, not wanting to part with it for any reason. Mulder was grabbing things out of the car. She could hear the doors opening and closing, but she stared straight ahead, her eyes landing on the one lone chair that sat on the porch.

Everything about the house these days screamed bachelor pad not home the way it had when she was there. It was still cozy, still the place she knew by heart, but she felt out of place, like a visitor and not an inhabitant.

She closed her eyes as she heard his steps crossing the grass, then falling on the stairs. She looked up as he approached, and he gave her a quizzical look.

“Why didn’t you go in?” he asked, opening the screen door.

“I don’t have keys,” she said softly.

He looked back at her, his hand ready to put his key in the lock. Again, the same quizzical look and then sadness in his eyes for a second.

“My keys are inside. I met up with you, remember? My car is over there and I didn’t need my keys with me while we were gone,” she said, trying to ease his worries that she had not meant she no longer had keys to their home. His home. Shit.

He held her gaze as he unlocked the door and then waited while she went in ahead of him. She looked around as she walked in, the place cleaner than the last time she had been there. The Bigfoot impression was still on the coffee table, but free of the Goop-O it once held. Her cheeks flushed at the memory of what they had done instead of eating the mass amounts of the, non-taint flavored Goop-O.

He set the bags down and put his wallet and keys on the desk. Oh, she had not noticed that he brought her bag in, too. Her heart fluttered at that fact, at the hopefulness it showed in him.

She stood in the middle of the room, looking around. She missed it here, every time she visited. The creaky stairs, the drafty room in which she was always cold and he was always just right, the burner on the stove that always gave her problems, the mountain of items stacked haphazardly all over, threatening to tip over at any minute, she missed it all. This was home, not her place at Alan’s.

Lost in her thoughts, she had not noticed Mulder moving around the room. She looked over at him as she heard him saying her name.

“What?” she asked, shaking her head slightly.

He gave her a small smile, as he knelt on the floor, and put out his hand. “Let me have the videotape, Scully,” he said softly.

He had moved the television out while she had not been paying attention. He had the VCR on and was ready for the tape. He actually had both VCR’s out. Mulder was the only person she knew who still had not only one, but two working VCR’s.

He put in a tape and then again reached a hand out to her. “I want to make a copy, just in case. And then ... that way we ... we both have one at both our places,” he said, his hand out, but his head down.

She swallowed down the lump in her throat, determined not to cry, as she handed him the tape. She knelt next to him on the floor and lightly squeezed his hand. A thank you and an understanding squeeze, as he put in the videotape.

He pushed play and there was William again. She inhaled, still not believing she had spoken to him, but not him.

“You seem like a nice person. I wish I could know you better.”

“Well. Safe travels.”

“Umm ...” Mulder said, clearing his throat, looking down again. “I’m ... I’m gonna rewind it and see if we can pinpoint when he shows up and then record it to the other tape.”

Scully nodded, again squeezing his hand. He picked up the remote and they sat cross-legged together on the floor. He rewound it and they watched things moving backward. They saw them pulling out of the gas station, but the car William was using was still there.

Mulder kept rewinding it and they saw William moving around, pacing in front of the camera, looking at his watch, glancing at the road, standing around, looking around again, glancing directly at the camera. Then he got in his car and backed out of the frame.

“Okay,” Mulder whispered, letting the tape go a little further back and then pushing play again, and also pushing record on the other VCR.

They watched together as William pulled in, and sat for a few seconds before getting out of the car. When he did, he looked around, his gaze landing right on the camera and nodding.

“He knew it was there,” Scully whispered, beginning to breathe faster, her heart pounding. Mulder nodded next to her.

He began to look around, glancing toward the windmill, then heading to the street, going out and then coming back into frame. He looked at his watch, glanced at the road again and then went inside the gas station.

A few minutes later, they pulled in and got out of the car. Mulder said he was going to the bathroom and Scully said she would pump the gas. He walked away and she began to get it ready.

William walked out and her focus was on his face, his expressions, and the way he looked at her. She was searching for any ill feelings, hard looks, or any hatred. Her heart pounded as she did not see it. Could he possibly not harbor bad feelings toward her, while her own feelings of doubt and worry were always just below the surface? The hole inside her heart, that was forever present, had never properly healed.

She focused again as he drove away and Mulder was there on the screen. They ran out of frame and then came back, glancing at the camera and running toward the station. The tape stopped and they were silent.

Mulder stopped both tapes and looked at Scully. They stared at each other before he rewound it and they watched again. He paused it and they stared at William, looking at the smile on his face as he spoke to Scully.

“He was waiting for you, Scully,” Mulder whispered.

“But how could he have been? Mulder, how could he know we would travel on that road? And at that particular time? What ... what if we hadn’t shown up when we did?” she said, knowing the answer, but afraid to actually believe it.

“I think he would have kept waiting until we did. That snow globe with the windmill was part of your dream for a reason. He left it for you, knowing you would most likely take it. He was trying to tell you something,” he said, looking at her, watching her face.

She stood up and paced around the room. She knew he was right, the evidence was right in front of her eyes. He had been waiting for them, or more specifically, for her. She stopped pacing and looked at him.

“He can disguise himself as anyone, Mulder. How? How can he do that?” she asked, so many questions and uncertainties surrounding him, as she shook her head.

“I don’t know, Scully,” he began, but she cut him off.

“And he looked right at the camera, he must have known it would show the real him. If he knew that, why ... why did he not just appear as himself? If he knew he would be on video, why hide that way? Why … disguise himself, if he knew ... if he planned ...” she could not go on. She knew the answer to these questions too, but she needed to ask them anyway.

He stood up, glancing at the frozen image on the television screen. She looked too, and saw the smiles on both of their faces. They were happy, content.

“Scully,” Mulder said quietly, pulling her attention from the video. “What would you have done if it was him, as himself, in front of you?”

She looked into his eyes and she knew he knew the answer the same as she did. She would have been unable to be as collected as she liked to imagine she would be. She would have undoubtedly terrified him with her desire to want him close, to hold him, to convince him to come with them.

She knew Mulder knew what she wanted. She fought back tears, exhaling through her nose, and shrugging her shoulders. Finally, she dropped her head, and sighed.

“I ... just ... Mulder, I wanted my chance to ... tell him I was sorry. To ... apologize ... to explain why I couldn’t keep him. Why we couldn’t keep him. I didn’t get my chance, Mulder,” she said, a sob rising up in spite of her efforts to keep it down.

He pulled her to him and she wrapped her arms around his waist, burying her face in his chest. She cried softly for a few minutes, as he rubbed her back, murmuring to her.

“You did tell him, Scully. He heard you,” he said into her hair, when she had quieted down. “I was there as you spoke to him. He heard every word you said to him.”

“I said that to what I thought was his corpse, Mulder,” she said, pushing back from him. “It’s not the same ... not at all the same as face-to-face.”  

“Scully,” he said, reaching for her, but she pulled away, not ready for his touch.

She felt that same feeling she had in the morgue, grossly inadequate at saying all she needed to say. Pouring out her heart, knowing she was too late, but needing him to know, to somehow hear her and have an idea of how sorry she was for everything. How every day away from him had been torture and his death being what brought them back together, felt like her heart had been scooped out and she was left with nothing inside.

She covered her face with her hands and cried. She knew she should be ecstatic he was alive. She should be celebrating his ability to apparently deceive everyone and escape. She was happy, very happy, but she still felt empty and hollow.

“I ... wanted to touch him,” she said, through her tears. “I wanted to hold him. To see … see if he still smells the way I remember. I know that it’s crazy, and I no longer have a claim to him, but I wanted to know. I’ve missed so much … ”

“Scully, he gave you all he could, in the only way he knew,” Mulder said, not trying to touch her, but staring at her so kindly it made her ache. “He was scared. He doesn’t know us or if he can trust us. I don’t blame him for being precautious.”

She knew he was right. She knew that she would have done the same if she was tailing a suspect. But this was different. This was her son they were seeing. Their son. She wanted to go back in time and grab him and never let go.

“He came to you at the hospital because he heard your words and wanted to see you,” Mulder said quietly. “He wanted to get a feel for the kind of person you are. What better way to do that than see how you behave toward a stranger?”

Of course he was right. Observing the way people treat strangers was an indicator of character. It was smart of him, but she still felt cheated.

“He ... he had you find that snow globe for a reason. Maybe he had this planned all along. Not hurting the girls, but finding you. Getting us out there because he wanted to see us, see you. He waited for us, that much is obvious. He had a plan, Scully.”

She stared at him, her wild thoughts voiced by him, made her feel less crazy for imaging he wanted to see her, to know her. Jesus, William had said it plain as day, and he knew the surveillance camera would see the real him.

It was suddenly all too much and she felt as if she had hit a wall. She stepped close to Mulder again, wrapping her arms around his waist. He held her close, his head resting on top of hers.

“I’m tired, Mulder,” she whispered, her ear close to his heart. He hummed and she closed her eyes.

She wanted to stay, but she felt that old hesitation. Worry about whether it was a good or bad idea. Screw it, she thought. She needed him tonight.

“I want to take a bath. Is that okay?” she asked, still against his chest, not wanting to meet his eyes.

She felt his breath catch and his heart beat faster. His hands stilled in their movements across her back. He breathed out and his hands began to move again, stroking her back, her hair.

“Scully, you don’t need to ask. Whatever you want, whatever you need." He pulled back and held her face in his hands. His eyes searched hers, his thumbs lightly stroking her face. “Whatever you want, Scully,” he whispered.

She moved her arms and placed her hands on his chest. She pulled gently on the lapels of the jacket he still wore and brought his mouth down to hers. She kissed him softly, feeling his hands moving to her hair.

She pulled back and laid her hands on his chest. He stared at her as he let his hands fall from her and stepped back. She sighed and headed for the stairs, taking her jacket off and laying in on the banister.

“Do you want your bag?” he asked softly.

She turned to him and shook her head. “All the clothes in there are dirty.” She held his gaze and she knew he understood what she was implying.

“You know where my shirts are,” he said quietly, with a nod.

She nodded back and went upstairs. She crossed the threshold into their room and looked around. She had not been alone in their room in a long time. The books she had been reading were still on her nightstand. Four years and they were still there. She blinked back tears as she looked at them.

The bed had been hastily made, only one side rumpled. A half a glass of water was on his nightstand, along with books he was reading. There was also a photo of them they had taken a few years ago. They had been at a lighthouse on the Vineyard and they had asked a fellow tourist to take their picture. It was a windy day and chilly. They were bundled up and her hair was blowing in her face and in his. They were laughing and had their arms around each other. She loved that picture of them.

She stepped closer to it and picked it up, tracing her finger over their faces. She was looking at the camera, but he was looking at her. His eyes were so full of love, the way they always were when he looked at her. Except when he stopped looking at her, and looked instead, into the darkness.

She set the picture back down and walked over to the dresser. She opened what used to be one of her drawers, why she did not know. To turn the knife a little more maybe, and see the physical emptiness, as well as feel it.

When she opened it, she let out a breath. Inside lay a couple of t-shirts, a pair of leggings and some underwear. They were clothes she had not worn in years, but they were there, as if waiting for her return. They must have been in the laundry and she forgot about them when she packed her things.

She touched them as she had the photo on the nightstand. The memories attached to something as simple as these items made her stomach hurt. She closed the drawer and walked into the bathroom, shaking her head. The past was gone and she did not want to keep living there, but she felt stuck in the middle. She shook her head and exhaled.

She turned the water on and started to fill the bathtub. She smiled softly as she watched it fill, remembering the day she had come home from work to an eager and smiling Mulder. He had been fairly bouncing as he pulled her upstairs. She was tired and not in the mood for sex, but he bypassed the bed and led her to the bathroom.

The new tub sat there, shiny and stocked with supplies- bubble bath, oils, body scrubbers. He filled the tub and helped her undress, taking her hand as she stepped in and sank down in the water. He grinned at her and disappeared, returning with a glass of red wine and a calming cd playing on the portable player. She had soaked and relaxed, drinking her wine, then properly thanked him, all thoughts of exhaustion long gone.

She sighed, adding some of her bubble bath she found under the sink, still there after all this time. It made her feel the same way the books and the clothes had, confused and also happy.

She grabbed a towel and washcloth and took off her clothes, leaving them in a pile on the floor. She turned off the water, pulled her hair up in a messy bun, and stepped into the tub. She closed her eyes as she submerged all the way in, leaning her head against the back of the tub. The water was the perfect temperature, and the bubbles smelled wonderful. She took deep breaths and tried to stop her brain from overthinking everything.

There was a knock on the door and she opened her eyes. “Come in,” she said softly.

Mulder stepped in and walked over to the side of the tub, a mug in his hand. He looked sheepish as he shrugged his shoulders.

“Don’t have any wine in the house, but I made you some tea. It’s chamomile. I don’t have the sleepy kind. Guess I’ll need to make a store run soon,” he said, smiling slightly as he handed her the mug.

She felt tears in her eyes and blinked them back as she took the mug from him. She took a drink to try and push down the lump in her throat. It was just how she liked it, a touch of honey and not too hot.

“Thank you, Mulder,” she said quietly, looking into his eyes.

He nodded and turned to leave the room. She reached out a hand and caught his in her own. He looked at her again and she held his eyes. She hoped she was conveying with her eyes what she could not seem to voice.

She swallowed and took a breath. “Thank you,” she whispered, the words holding meaning for so many things. He nodded again and bent to place a kiss on top of her head. He squeezed her hand and walked out of the room.

She sat in the tub, drinking her tea, her eyes closed. Too much had happened in the past couple of days, she needed to stop thinking and relax. Assess what was true and move forward. William was alive, he had made contact with them and purposely made it known he was okay. She breathed a sigh of relief at that knowledge. She sent up a prayer that he would stay that way, but if he found himself in trouble, they would be there in time to help him.

She and Mulder were okay, both physically and emotionally. They were in a good place and for that she was most thankful. The two years they had been apart, before work brought them back together, felt like twenty. Every day she had missed him, the old Mulder and their old life. Working together again and seeing each other regularly, had given them that push they needed. They were so close now, she could feel it.

She stayed in the tub for a bit longer, adding more hot water when she felt it cooling off. She finished her tea and set the mug on the cupboard top behind her. She closed her eyes and settled in for a few more minutes. She used the washcloth and soap before pulling the plug and standing up.

She stepped onto the bath mat and grabbed her towel. She felt better now, the bath helping the way it always did. She wrapped the towel around her, opened the door, and stepped into the bedroom.

Mulder was not in bed, as she somewhat assumed he would be. He must have gone back downstairs. She stepped back over to her drawer and took out a pair of underwear, but left her shirts untouched, she wanted one of Mulder’s.

She opened the closet and took out one of his shirts, a short sleeved, dark heather grey one, that was unbelievably soft from so many washes. She slipped it on and closed the closet door. The bedroom door opened and Mulder looked her up and down. She gave him a small smile, tugging on the shirt, feeling suddenly self conscious.

She had worn his shirts to bed thousands of times, but for some reason this felt different. He stepped closer to her, but did not touch her.

“I’m going to take a shower,” he said quietly, looking her up and down again. She nodded as he headed for the bathroom.

“Scully?” he said, turning around and swallowing hard, as she looked at him. “I want you to stay.” She frowned at him, tilting her head, and gesturing to her naked bottom half.

He smiled softly and shook his head. “No. I want you to stay. Don’t leave in the middle of the night. Stay. Please?”

He stared at her, his countenance hesitant and unsure. He was holding his breath and she felt like weeping at the uncertainty on his face. She nodded and his body visibly relaxed. He breathed out and his smile widened.

“I’ll be out in a few minutes,” he said with a nod to her. He walked in the bathroom and shut the door halfway.

She heard the shower start and she went to her side of the bed and pulled back the covers. She slid in the bed and laid against the pillows. She sat up and took her hair out of the bun and leaned back again. That was better.

She closed her eyes as she listened to the shower running, the familiarity was overwhelming. He would be out soon, he rarely took long showers. She felt that sadness bubbling up again and she was anxious for him to come to bed, to hold her and tell her it would be okay.

The water turned off and she turned on her side facing away from him to give him time, the way he had for her. She heard him moving around, but she remained still. Finally, the light was shut off and she felt the covers lift and the bed dipped as he got in and laid down.

It was quiet. She knew she had to make the first move. She had to make it clear what she wanted and not feign sleep, although she doubted he thought she had fallen asleep so quickly. She turned toward him and he was lying on his side, staring straight at her. She could see his eyes in the moonlight through the window.

It made her think of him waiting on the other side of the motel room door, knowing she would come to him. Tonight was different. She simply wanted to be held by him, kept safe in his arms, while the world may rage it's battles outside.

“Hey,” she whispered.

“Hey,” he whispered back.

And then she was pulled into his arms. Her face in the crook of his neck, his hands stroking her hair and her lower back. She had an arm around his waist and one tucked to his chest. One of his hands went under her shirt and began to rub her bare skin, and that was all it took.

Within seconds her shirt was across the room and she had her mouth fused to his as he lay on top of her. She was pulling his hair and moaning into his mouth. He pulled back from her and looked in her eyes.

“Slow down, Scully. There’s no hurry,” he said, before he lightly kissed her.

She had tears in her eyes again. He knew her so well, he could read her like a book. She had wanted to go fast, feel something to replace the confusion and sadness she felt. But he knew it would not have been what she needed. God, she loved him.

He was kissing her neck and moving down her body. He took a breast into his hand and a nipple into his mouth. He ran his tongue around it in a circle before lightly biting it. She arched up into him and breathed his name. He did the same to the other and then moved farther down her body.

Of course she knew where he was headed, but tonight she did not want that from him. Considering they had just started to ramp this up, she was already incredibly wet. She was ready and she wanted to feel him and be filled by him. The only man who had ever made her feel loved and also completely aroused by simply looking at her.

“Mulder,” she said, closing her legs around him, and tugging on his hair. He looked up and she saw mild surprise on his face. “I just want you.” He stared at her and then nodded.

He pulled her panties off and then his boxers. He settled back between her open legs and kissed her again. She could feel him hot and hard against her. She stroked her tongue along his and rocked her body, silently telling him what she wanted.

He leaned back and smiled at her. He trailed his fingers down her body and slid them inside her, making sure she was ready. She gasped and he looked at her with another surprised look. Yes, she was more than ready.

She watched as he took himself in hand, using the same one that had been inside her. He stroked himself a couple of times and she throbbed with anticipation. He did not keep her waiting long before he slid slowly into her. They both exhaled as he leaned forward, resting his head against hers, her legs wrapping around him.

He waited until she nudged him with her ankles. He raised his head and began to slowly make love to her. He took his time, heightening both their pleasure, until she was crying out for more. She pulled him close and he started pumping faster.

So many thoughts swirled inside her head, but the one that kept coming front and center, was her love for him. How he could still affect her the way he did after all this time. How the feel of him inside her, made her feel complete and whole. Being with him in any way, but especially like this, made her feel like she was home. He was her other half. She knew it and had known for years. She was incomplete without him.

She began to cry, thinking about how much time they had wasted being apart. She tried to be quiet, but he heard her. He raised his head and stared at her. Tears ran down the sides of her face and into her ears. She could not stop them. It was as if a floodgate had been opened from this particular joining together.

He started to pull back and slip from her body, but she stopped him with her hands on his hips. He looked at her and shook his head, obviously not wanting to continue if she was upset.

“Please don’t stop, Mulder. I need you. I need ... please,” she cried as she held him to her. “I’ve missed this so much, please.”

She was sobbing now, but still holding him and moving her hips to get him to go again. He moved them until they were side by side, still connected, but not moving yet. He stroked her hair, kissed her cheeks, wiped her tears, then held her to him.

She moved her leg over his hip, beseeching through her tears, for him to keep going. He moved a hand down her back to her waist and did what she asked. He began moving slowly, her tears falling on his neck as she cried.

She cried for the past and the decision she had to make alone and the sadness that followed it from which she could never fully escape. She cried for the happiness they had shared in this house, and the darkness that had been their undoing. She cried for the nights she had spent away from him and the time right now, when he would love her the way she wanted, while she sobbed in his arms.

“I’m sorry, so sorry,” she cried over and over, meaning so many things. She heard him saying it back to her and she cried harder.

She knew he was close and she did not care that she would not get there with him. This was for him, for his strength and care of her for the last few days. She had no better way to thank him, to let him know how much his presence meant to her, than to give this to him.

“Scully,” he said, in a strangled voice. He knew she was not close, and she knew he would not want it to happen that way, but his end was fast approaching.

“It’s okay, Mulder. It’s okay. Come, Mulder. Please,” she whispered into his ear, her face tight against his neck.

He cried out as he did, holding her close as he spilled inside her, her name a mantra on his lips. More than his physical release, it felt as if he was giving her everything he had to give, breaking down another wall, and adding to their path toward each other.

Her tears were slowing, but still she clung to him. His body was as close to hers as she could get without sliding inside his skin. He smelled so good, like soap, Mulder, and home. She did not want to leave here again and yet, the path was still not complete. They were so close, a few more stones just needed to be placed.

Tonight though, they had gone far enough. They could take respite here and find solace. Her name still fell from his lips and she kissed his neck, tasting her tears. He stroked her hair as she felt him becoming flaccid inside her. She pulled him closer, her leg going higher on his hip.

“Scully,” he whispered, pulling back a bit. He looked into her eyes and she smiled slightly. “You didn’t ... I’m so sorry.”

“No, Mulder,” she said, touching his face. “Don’t apologize. It’s okay, I promise.”

“I didn’t want it to just be about me. You know I don’t like that,” he said, his expression serious. His hand moved toward her center and she stopped him.

“I can’t right now. I ... I just can’t,” she said, bringing his hand to her mouth and kissing his fingers. “You gave me exactly what I needed, and I wanted to give you what you needed. It’s okay, Mulder. There’s no hurry, right?”

Hearing his own words said back to him, he nodded, although his brow remained furrowed. She traced the lines with her fingers and he relaxed, closing his eyes. He shifted them again, moving from inside her body, but remaining in the same position.

Their breathing fell in sync as they lay holding each other. His heartbeat and his fingers running circles on her skin, relaxed her. The last thing she heard was his “I love you,” before sleep claimed her.

She awoke in the morning, no longer in his arms. He was on his side facing away from her. The covers had slipped down and she could see his back, strong and muscly. She ached to touch him, but did not want to wake him just yet.

She slipped out of bed quietly and used the bathroom. She brushed her teeth with one of the extra toothbrushes she found under the sink. Years of traveling at a moments notice, had led to stockpiling items, even when it was no longer needed. She had at least four unopened toothbrushes at her own place. Old habits did indeed die hard.

She borrowed his brush and tried to make her hair a bit neater, before setting the brush down, and walking back to the bedroom. He was still sleeping, his chest rising and falling with each deep breath he took.

She slid back in bed, the sheets still warm from her body. She lay on her back and looked around the familiar room, the colors, the items, the man beside her and she began to smile. So much had changed in the past four years, but here, it was as if time stood still. The place was the same, albeit the aforementioned bachelor pad feel, but it still held the same memories and feel within its walls.

The man beside her was the one thing that had changed. She saw it, had in fact been seeing it for awhile. She was still hesitant and had her worries, but after these past few days, she felt a shift in him and in them.

Last night had been a cleansing of her soul and now she wanted to move forward. To focus on the good and not fixate on the bad. She had cried enough last night and now she wanted to be happy. To achieve a sense of normalcy in their crazy life. She closed her eyes and prayed for that chance.

Mulder suddenly stirred beside her, causing her to open her eyes. He took a deep breath and then relaxed before turning over quickly, his own eyes wild as he looked into hers.

“You’re here,” he said, his tone surprised, his eyes scanning her face.

“I’m here,” she said with a smile.

He moved closer and stared at her, as she turned on her side to face him. His hair was wild and his cheek had a crease on it from his pillow. She thought he had never looked cuter or more sexy. His eyes were darting all over her face, as if looking for a sign.

“Hey,” he whispered, watching her eyes.

“Hey,” she whispered back, a smile beginning to stretch across her face. He answered hers with one of his own, still searching, before she nodded.

He leaned closer and kissed her, lightly at first, but soon his tongue was asking for permission to enter. She gladly answered by opening her mouth and kissing him back. She felt her body respond immediately, the tears and sadness from last night, gone away in the early morning light.

He moved to lay between her legs and she felt him, already hard. He kissed her once more before pulling back and beginning to kiss across her jaw. He got to her ear and kissed before biting her earlobe. She shivered and he put his mouth to her ear.

“You taste minty,” he breathed and she closed her eyes. Only he could arouse her with those words.

He kissed her throat, her chest, her stomach and her belly button. He stopped and looked up at her, his chin resting on her stomach. He asked her with his eyes if this was okay, if she was, and if they were. She stroked his face and smiled. He smiled back and began moving down her body once again.

This time, she did not stop him.

______________________________________________________

God, I love Ghouli. I love the emotions and the raw need they have for each other. I love Mulder being her rock, pulling her to him, holding her, his barely contained anger to others but his absolute love for her. It’s so beautiful.

There are not enough words to describe the love I have for Scully’s “discussion” with William in the morgue. It’s beautiful and sad and so good.

[omi-ohmyimagination]

Just a deal

Themes: Roommates AU, Friends with benefits, Mature, Smut, Angst (?), Fluff, Romance, Optional Bias x Female Reader

Word count: ~5,6k

Description: It was supposed to be a harmless agreement. Simple deal between two needy people who happened to live together. But what if one of them had hidden motifs? What if they didn't reveal the whole truth behind their plan? What if... it wasn’t just a deal?

OMI’s note: Eh... sorry for disappearing guys. I was busy with other things and well, I didn't have energy to write anything. I wish I could say that I will be here more often from now on but January... will be tough. I have to finally finish my BA thesis, otherwise I'll get in huge troubles. I'm really sorry guys...

You had known B/N since the first year of university. You couldn't say that you were friends, acquaintances – yes, but not friends. You talked a bunch of times, went to few parties together and kissed during one of them. But the last one was something you both agreed to forget as soon as you had sobered up.

B/N was friendly, respectful and almost always willing to help. He was the most popular person at your uni; people surrounded him like a moths surrounding fire. He was really a life of the party. He was also quite famous for his face and body – perfectly sculpted features, plumb lips, charming eyes and fit build. Girls always trailed him, no matter where he went. And he didn't really refuse them.

You were probably one of a few people - besides those girls - that knew that under all those positive features, he was a huge ladies' man. And it wasn't because you were interested in him or something, heaven forbid.

You were his roommate.

You didn't really want it, it just happened. One day your previous roomie told you she wanted to finally live with her boyfriend and she moved out week later. That was when B/N appeared at your doorsteps with all his stuff but without knowledge that you were supposed to be his roommate.

Everything went surprisingly well for three years – you didn't really talk a lot with each other, only if it was needed, tried not to interfere with other's life and didn't cause any problems or unnecessary fights. Admittedly, sometimes, if one had drank too much, you spent time together, pouring your heart out to another one but it was forgotten as soon as the sun hit your faces. In people eyes you were perfect roommates.

But it all ended one summer night.

You were putting on your clothes in bathroom, when you noticed B/N by the door frame, looking at you with dark eyes.

“The fuck you're doing,” you asked, zipping up your leather dress.

“I have... an offer.”

“Mhm,” you murmured without looking at him.

“I'm sure you remember when I told you that I can't find anyone to... well, begging your pardon, fuck...”

You glanced at him curious. Over the last few years you never talked about things that were said during states of intoxication. Not even once. That was definitely something new.

{ You came back from work tired as never before. You were running around the office whole day, collecting papers and signatures. All you dreamed about was throwing yourself into your bed and forgetting about pain in your feet. But as soon as you crossed the doorstep smell of alcohol hit your nose.

You entered the livingroom and saw B/N sitting on the floor in nothing except joggers with bottle of vodka in hand. His face was red, pupils dilated and he was breathing heavily.

“Ey, B/N, are you okay?”

“You know, everything was simpler when we were at university,” he said with a sad smile and took a sip of alcohol. You sighed, throw your blazer on the table and sat across him. He offered you his drink but you shook your head. “I had almost everything I wanted. It was all mine. And it cost me nothing. But now? I barely sleep, I can't have sex with women at my work and I can't even go to a bar to find anyone. I'm so frustrated, Y/N. It's all so different now and I can't get use to it.”

“It's called adulthood, men.”

He looked at you thoughtfully. “Yeah, maybe... How do you handle it?”

“Handle what exactly?”

“Come on, don't play dumb, you know what I'm talking about.”

“I definitely cope with it better than you. I'm not wasting myself in a bottle of vodka.” You eyed him from head to toe with pity.

“But I don't see anyone visiting you. And you don't go to parties so often.”

“Well, that's true. I don't really have time...” You rubbed your neck uncomfortable with the truth. “But I can take care of myself alone.”

B/N laughed. “From what I've heard, you surely can.”

You gasped, absolutely shocked. “What did you just say?”

“We have rooms next to each other, Y/N. It's not that weird that I hear... various sounds. And I must say, some of them indeed sound pretty nice...”

“Okay, I think you drunk too much,” you announced, standing up and taking the bottle from him. “Go to your bed because you're talking nonsense.” }

“I'm quite amazed that you remember that, you were pretty wasted.”

“That's not important right now. More to the point, I have an offer that may seem a bit... weird but we will both be... satisfied with the outcome, I think.”

“Stop beating around the bush and spit it out, I'm kinda busy, as you can see.” You moved your hand around yourself, trying to give him a hint that you were leaving the house soon.

“Yeah, okay. So, both of us don't have time for meeting people and we have needs, you can't deny it. Maybe we should help each other?”

Brush that you were holding hit the counter with a thud. “What?”

“We should try being friends-with-benefits.”

You turned around and looked closely at him. You were searching for any sign that he was joking but his expression was dead serious. He really meant it. You were so confused that you said the dumbest possible thing, “But we aren't even friends.”

He blinked a few times, not being sure how to respond. Few extremely long seconds passed before he sighed, almost as if he was disappointed. “You can't tell me you still believe in this, we know too much about each other.”

“But we never talk about ourselves!”

“Oh come on, I remember every damn conversation we had when one of us got drunk, I remember everything you told me about you, every fucking detail. And you probably do, too. Just because we never talked about it, doesn't mean that those things don't linger at the back of my head.”

“Stop it, B/N. It's ridiculous.”

“It's not that ridiculous. It will be a lot easier for us that way...”

“No, cut it out,” you interrupted him. You took a deep breath. “I'm going out now because it's getting weirder every minute. This discussion shouldn't happened so, I don't know, think about what you just said.”

As soon as you stepped outside your shared apartment you took your phone out and dialed Lami's, your best friend's, number. She answered after two signals. “What's up? Are you ready?”

“I'm definitely not in the mood for party right now.”

"Something happened?”

“Yeah and I don't know what to think about it. Can we ditch this party and meet at the usual?”

“Sure, I will be there in fifteen minutes.”

You were sitting by the table, mindlessly stirring your coffee with a straw. Beside you and a couple at the other end of the bar the inside was pretty deserted. From time to time you glanced at them - they were looking around while laughing hysterically, probably planning something shady.

But your mind couldn't concentrate on them for a longer period of time, you still heard B/N's voice inside your head. Was he really thinking about it? How did he even come up with such plan? And most importantly, was he considering you as his friend? It was true, you knew quite a lot about him but was it enough to be his friend?

You didn't notice when Lami came inside and sat across you. “What happened, Y/N?”

You looked up at her, lost. “You're here already.”

“I am and now tell me what's going on. You look like you've seen a ghost.”

“B/N suggested that we should be friends-with-benefits and I don't know what to do with it. I'm not sure if he was joking or what. It's so weird Lami. What am I suppose to do?”

“Whoa, hold on. He did what?”

You sighed. “A few days ago, when he got drunk, we talked a little bit about our sex lives and, you know, they don't exist. And today he told me we should try being FWB because it will be a lot easier for both of us. I don't know if he was serious but he looked fairly confident about it. What's more, he believes that we are friends but we aren't.”

“I wouldn't say that, girl. You don't talk with people you're not close to about sex. Beside you're living together for more than three years, he probably knows more about you than me.”

“That's not true,” you stated, shaking your head.

“Don't be so defensive. Think about it, you saw your lowest points, you were together during them, you comforted each other. And don't even try to brush it off and convince me that it never happened because you told me it did. Remember that time when your grandmother died? Who was taking care of you back then 'cause I think it was B/N. That's exactly what friends do.”

{ When you hung up the phone, tears started rolling down your face. It couldn't be true. You had knew your grandma was sick but you didn't know it was this serious. She couldn't be dead.

You threw the phone across the room; it hit the wall with a loud bang and landed on the floor in a few pieces. Your knees failed you and you collapsed, sobbing loudly.

The door opened suddenly and B/N stood in them. “What are you...” His face filled with worry and he quickly came closer to you. “Hey, what's going on?”

“She's dead... she...,” you stammered, looking up at him. “She died, B/N.”

“Your grandma?” His voice was soft. It was like he was trying to calm you down just with the tone of his voice.

“It's not possible. It's just a sick joke, right?”

He took you into embrace. “Y/N, I'm so sorry.”

“I couldn't say goodbye to her, I couldn't...”

He stayed with you that night, brushing your hair, wiping tears from your face and telling you meaningless stories just to calm you down. Finally, after hours of crying, you finally fell asleep in his arms.” }

“I... fuck, Lami. What am I supposed to do?” You laid your head on the table with a groan.

“If I was in your place,” she started, “I would accept his offer.”

“What?”

“Well, you could say that you have some kind of a past together...”

“It was a one time thing. And we were both hella drunk,” you interrupted her again, annoyed.

“Yeah but still. You're comfortable with each other, I would say that you like him and he likes you, too. And you live together. What more you possibly might need? It's worth a shot, you won't lose anything. After all, it's just a simple deal.”

After you parted ways with Lami, your head was still full of doubts. She had a point – it was just a deal but the thought of discomfort that would come after it scared you. It was true, you liked him and you didn't want any tension between the two of you afterwards. On the other hand, you missed that kind of interactions with men and he wasn't the worst catch – he was sexy, willing and available.

What could go wrong?

You entered your apartment and headed straight to B/N's room. He was sitting on his bed with laptop beside him. His hair was slightly damp and his bare torso glistened in a lamp's light. He looked up, locking his eyes with you.

“Let's do it.”

“Let's do wha... oh shit, are you serious?” He straightened up, suddenly full of energy but also disbelieve at the same time.

“Yes, but we need a few rules.” You sat on the edge of his bed with folded arms. “First of all, we are not talking about it during the day, I don't want it to be the topic of our conversations. Two, we are not staying in one another's bed after. And three, no feelings attached. If anyone starts to feel different about the other one, we are ending it. Understood?”

“Understood.”

“Good. So... are up for a round,” you asked. You felt a hint of shyness but one look at his charming body ended those thoughts.

“Right now,” he uttered, shocked.

“Yep.” You came closer to him, licking your lips. “Lately I didn't have any time for myself, it also didn't work out today and it was because of you, just so you know so... well, you need to make it up to me.” Your hand touched his bare arm softly. “What do you say, B/N?”

His eyes trailed the move of your fingers. “I... don't know.”

“What? Are you withdrawing from your own offer? Were you joking?”

“No, no, no. I just didn't expect you to agree and be so... eager?”

“I can leave if you want.” You backed off but he grabbed your wrist.

“Stay.”

You grinned and kissed him. His lips were soft, just as you remembered from that one time. He was hesitant for a second but then he eased into your touch. He grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you closer. You fell on his torso with a moan. New position allowed you to deepened the kiss which became a lot more sloppier and fervent. He moved away to catch a quick breath and you took a chance and put your lips on his throat. You bit him lightly what earned you a deep groan from him. You felt his dick getting harder. You smirked into his skin and started moving your hips in circle. His breath stopped. He yanked your head and rolled you on your back.

“I like it more than I thought,” he said while connecting your lips together again. This time it was much more violent. Your teeth clashed and you moaned loudly, too concentrated on feeling building up in your body. B/N's hand slid over your stomach, leaving burning marks on its way, and he grabbed the hem of your dress and pulled it up. He pushed your underwear to the side and slid his slender fingers up and down your womanhood, spreading the wetness in the process. You gasped at the sudden contact, sensation being more overwhelming than when you were doing it. He took his time, preparing you. After few minutes of torturing you with slow pace, he inserted two digits into you. Your back arched, your eyes closed on their own and long moan left your mouth.

B/N's lips were attached to your neck, kissing and marking it while his fingers worked their magic. He pumped them in and out in a steady pace whilst his thumb was circling on your clit, bringing you closer to the high. Sometimes his digits curled inside you, hitting that sensitive spot and sending shivers all over your body. Every doubt you had about that agreement disappeared from your mind when climax finally hit you. It was so powerful that you squeezed your legs together and the loudest moan escaped your lips. You tried to catch a breathe but it was too hard, every nerve, every muscle in you was shaking with pleasure.

You heard the sound of zipper being pulled down so you opened eyes and removed your pants. You were quite amazed at how well he was build, his cock was longer and thicker than you expected. You licked your lips.

B/N came between your legs and looked into your eyes with hesitation. “Are you sure about this?”

“Oh for fuck's sake, just fuck me.”

With weird look in his eyes, he finally entered you. You both moaned at the same time. He leaned his head on your shoulder and stayed still for a moment. “You feel so good, Y/N.”

“Stop talking and move,” you ordered, clenching your fingers on his hair. He glanced at you and slowly thrusted into you. You arched your back again. His moves were slow but hard. You forgot how good it felt. Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea.

You were euphoric. Meaningless words along with curses were leaving your lips constantly as if it was some kind of a mantra.  B/N's hand sneaked between your bodies and he started rubbing your clit in an attempt to drive you closer to the edge. Your legs tighten around his hips in response. He rolled into you, hitting you deeper each time. Begging screams left your lips after each thrust.

You yanked his hair harshly when climax finally ran over your body. Your mind was clouded with pleasure. B/N moved a few more times and collapsed on you, trying to catch his breath as well.

“That was definitely what I needed,” he said with lips close to your ear.

“Yeah, that's true,” you agreed and pushed him off of you. The loss of contact with him made you shudder but you ignored it and stood up.

“What are you doing?”

“Leaving? Remember our second rule,” you answered, grabbing your underwear from the floor.

“Oh... right.”

“Hey.” B/N entered the kitchen when you were putting scrambled eggs on a plate.

“Hey. Do you want some? I made a little too much,” you said while looking at the pan. To tell the truth, it was a lie. You made it intentionally, knowing that B/N didn't eat anything proper for a few days. Lately he was extremely busy, he came back from work late and went to sleep immediately. For some – unknown reason for you – it broke your heart.

“Sure.”

He sat on a tall chair and followed your every move with his eyes. You put a plate in front of him and joined him. After a while you finally noticed that he was looking at you and you swallowed the bite you took. “What?”

“Nothing. Thanks for the food.”

You were both silent for a few minutes before you spoke up. “How's work?”

B/N took a deep breath. “It's like hell lately. Our projects' deadlines are coming, everyone's in the office running around like crazy. There's so much to do that I don't even know what to do first. I'm so tired, Y/N.”

“Maybe you want me to help you?”

“Nah, I'm sure you have your own work to do.”

“Actually, today I'm free so I can lend you a hand. I see how burnt out you are.”

He looked carefully at you. “For real?”

“I wouldn't offer it if I wasn't serious.”

“I would be eternally grateful but still, I don't want you to overworked yourself. I know you spent two last nights doing reports.”

“And now you're doing the same and I can't stand it,” you groaned angry. “You look like you're gonna collapsed any minute. I'm sure you will do the same thing as me recently and then you will be even more tired than you already are. And I can't accept that. You can't refuse me, I'm going to help you and that's the end of this conversation.”

“But...”

“There's no but, B/N.”

His face expression softened and small, shy smile appeared on his lips. “I owe you.”

After you had finished eating, you both moved to B/N's room. You sat on his bed with the laptop and started typing numbers into the file. You were almost hundred percent sure that he gave you the easiest possible task. He explained it to you in detail, trying to describe it in a lot darker colors than it in fact was. But at least – you were helping him. It wasn't like you were feeling differently about him or anything... or that was what you were telling yourself. You just felt sorry for him. He wasn't his usual self and that affected you as well in some twisted way.

You finished your task way before B/N but you didn't speak up right away, instead you took a quick glance at him. He was sitting by the desk, concentrated more than you ever saw him, his glasses sat low on his nose and he munched on the tip of the pen. He licked his finger and flipped through the pages, spread in front of him. You gulped at the sight of it. He looked... sexy. Wave of heat ran over your body. You didn't want to interrupt him but suddenly you felt needy. It was a week since your first time together and you would lie if you said that you didn't crave his touch again.

You stood up and came closer to him. Your arms found their way around his shoulders. B/N looked at you puzzled. “What are you doing?”

You kissed the shell of his ear and purred seductively, “I want you.”

“I... I would love to fuck you right now but... I need to finish this,” he stammered, gazing at files.

You went around his chair and sat on his thigh. Sly smile appeared on your lips. “You can finish, I will do the work.”

“What...” he cut himself off in mid-sentence when you started moving back and forth on his leg. You applauded yourself for wearing sport short and nothing more. The friction between your core and his denim clothed thigh felt heavenly. You threw your head backwards and moaned loudly. B/N's hands squeezed your hips with so much power that it hurt. But you didn't care, the overall feeling was too good. He put his lips on your exposed neck and murmured, “Why do you look so hot, goddammit.”

You groaned, speeding your actions. His hands guided you, helping you to keep steady pace. You noticed a wet spot on B/N's jeans and you were about to let him know but he slapped your ass hard out of nowhere. You moaned, resting your head on his shoulder.

“Fuck, B/N.”

“What do you want, baby?” You felt smile forming on his lips. You would react at that baby but he flexed his muscles, making you squeezed your eyes shut. He pushed you down and repeated his move. You whined, digging your nails into his biceps. Your moves became sloppier, friction between your bodies turned into unbearable feeling. B/N bit sensitive skin under your ear and you finally came undone, spilling your juices all over his clothes. You trembled, trying to catch a breath. “Do you feel better now?”

“I do,” you said but didn't move from your current position. Your arms were still around his neck but he didn't seem to care. “Do you want me to help you with this,” you asked, touching his hard cock with just tips of your digits. He closed his eyes with a groan but gripped your hand in his at the same time.

“I will take care of it. Thanks for helping me, now go to sleep.”

“You're...”

“It's late and you need to wake up early. Just go to sleep, Y/N, don't worry about me.”

You hesitated for a moment, with pursed lips. He laughed loudly and nudged your hip. “Okay, okay. Goodnight, B/N.” Before you even registered what you were doing, you leaned in and kiss his cheek. You stepped back as fast as you could and left his room before he had a chance to say anything.

You opened another bottle of wine. It was the third one that night. Whole room was spinning and it was so hot that you took off your clothes, leaving only bra and shorts on. You were mad, your eyes burnt making you dangerously near crying.

The front door opened but you didn't care.

“Y/N?” You looked at B/N's worried expression and you couldn't hold your emotions under control any longer. Tears started rolling down your cheeks, hurt sob left your parted lips. He sped to you and took you into his arms. You pressed your face into his chest, feeling somehow safe close to him. “What happened?”

“That fucker, Kim, he... he... did it again. He's disgusting. He said such gross things and spanked me. I screamed at him and boss came but... but I feel... dirty. Why me again,” you cried.

B/N squeezed you tighter. “I'm gonna fucking kill him.”

You wrapped your arms around him. Your fist clenched on his shirt desperately. “He got fired, he won't be around me anymore. And I don't think he will come look after me. I was just his another toy but I'm finally free from him. Only those memories... I still feel his hands on me.”

“Oh baby...” He stroked your hair gently. His voice was full of pain.

“Can you do something for me,” you asked, looking up.

“Anything you want.”

“Can you touch me? I want you to... make love to me, not fuck me... Are you okay with bending our rules? Can you pretend that you love me? That you really want me?”

“I...” His face was full of sadness and you didn't know why. Was it because you look so pathetically? Was he disgusted?

“Don't worry, I understand.” You tried to freed yourself but he swiftly took you into his arms and headed to your bedroom.

“You don't understand, Y/N.” He put you on the bed, grabbed your face and wiped tears off of your cheeks with his fingers. “You don't understand.”

He attached his lips to yours. Gentleness of the kiss shocked you. He was carefully touching you just as if you were made from glass, like you could break any minute. You melted into his touch, intoxicated with his every move. You were amazed how good he was in his acting. If you didn't know that it was only a performance, you would believe him.

B/N's hands roamed around your body attentively, trying to touch every inch of it. Every feather-like touch set your skin on fire. His lips followed traces that his fingers left with gentle pecks. You shuddered under him.

Why did it feel so different?

“You're so pretty, Y/N,” he said, kissing your jaw.

“You don't need to pretend so hard.” You voice was quiet, filled with sadness. Oh, how much you wished that it was real.

He didn't say anything, instead he slowly undressed both of you, looking directly in your eyes. All of the sudden, you felt shy. His gaze was so piercing that you wanted to hide yourself.

He put your leg around his hip and entered you carefully. You moaned and hugged him. He was so gentle, so caring... as if he really loved you. It felt so good. Your head was spinning with the feeling of his proximity. He moved slowly, hanging his own head low. His hot breath mixed with yours; his low grunts mixed with yours moans. You combed your fingers through his hair, tugging lightly at them. He purred just a few inches above your mouth, pleased with your actions. You arched your back and pressed yourself to his naked chest. You wanted to be closer to him, to feel his skin, his heat all over your body.

“B/N.” His name left your parted lips in a quiet, almost inaudible, tone. He pushed a few loose strands of hair from you face and kissed your temple. You closed your eyes. You shuddered when he thrusted in you especially hard. Heat started to build in your abdomen. “I'm so close.”

He leaned his forehead on yours and pecked your nose lightly. “Keep looking at me.” You obeyed him without hesitation. His gaze was full of... admiration? Love?

Why?

He sped up his movements, interlocking his fingers with yours.

Stop it.

You squeezed his hands hardly as your climax hit you. The heat spread through your body, leaving the intense feeling of satisfaction. Every muscle in you shook with pleasure. B/N groaned and came undone after you. He planted a few kisses on your face, finally kissing your lips.

“Let me stay with you tonight,” he pleaded, rubbing your cheek with his thumb.

“I... you...”

“Just this once.”

You were silent for a few minutes. You wanted him to stay but wasn't it too much? Hesitantly, you said, “Okay.”

He helped you to clean yourself and as soon as he wrapped his arms around you, you began to drift into sleep. You felt safe... complete... in his embrace.

The last thing you heard before you fell asleep were the least words you thought you would ever hear from B/N.

“I wish you knew that I wasn't pretending...”

You were sitting in your usual place at the café, waiting for Lami impatiently. She was supposed to meet with you half an hour ago. You scrolled through messages on your phone – one from her and a few from B/N. Since the morning he was writing to you, asking where were you and if you were okay. You left the apartment and him, still sleeping in you bed, as soon as you had woken up. You felt weird and confused about what happened yesterday. And it wasn't only because of what he had said but also because of the fact that it felt... delightful. The thought of him made your heart skipped a bit.

You looked up when the door opened and you waved to Lami.

“Hey, what did you want to talk about?”

“Remember when you told me that this offer with B/N will be a simple deal? Well, it doesn't seem that simple now?”

Lami burst into laughter. “I'm not really surprised, if I'm being honest.”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, Y/N, you didn't notice that he was into you since the university?” You opened your mouth and closed them right away. You didn't understand what she was talking about. You just looked at her with wide opened eyes. “For real?! He had moved in with you, took care of you whenever you were drunk and now this and it still didn't tell you anything?”

“He knew I would be his roommate?”

“Of course. I was the one who told him about your situation... and not only about this, to tell the truth.”

“What?”

“We were talking about you quite a lot back then. He was extremely interested in you. And he still is, tho.”

“So why he never told me about it?” Feeling of confusion overwhelmed you.

“That's probably because he was scared that you wouldn't be interested in him. But I'm not sure.”

“I... what am I supposed to do, Lami?”

“And what do you want to do? Think about those few last months and the way you see him. It's not really my place to give advice, you know that.”

Few last months... Did anything change?

Of course it did.

You definitely became closer. He was a lot nicer, more often showed that he cared about you and you... you felt safer with him around. You wanted to spend more time with him, not only in bedroom but also in other aspects of your daily life. You remembered how much you had enjoyed those times when you were eating together, when you helped him with his work and how grateful he was because of it. It made you feel needed.

And those conversation while being drunk. They gave you not only insight in his feelings, but also consolation. He helped you a lot of times, never refused you a shoulder to lean upon and never expect anything in return.

And what about yesterday's night? Everything felt so different, so... right. You felt loved as never before. His words sparked a fire in your heart and you didn't want to ignore it anymore. Deep down you wished you would hear this from him some day.

You glanced at smiling Lami. “Go get your man, girl.”

You entered your apartment and saw B/N in the livingroom. He was sitting on the couch with the phone in hand, nervously tapping his foot on the floor. As soon as he saw you, he stood up.

“Are you okay? You didn't pick up my calls and...” You interrupted him, hugging him tightly. He wrapped his own arms around you instinctively. “Something happened?”

“Actually, yes,” you answered with a smile. “Fuck those rules. Especially the third one.”

His eyes filled with hope and your heart stopped beating. “You're not joking, right?”

“No way in hell I would lie to someone I love.”

Smile spread across his lips and he bent down to kiss you.

[curvywonderlandx]

My story isn’t over yet;

I’m nowhere near 100%, but it feels like the right time to share my story. As the last couple of months are only half of my mental health battle.

“You have no idea what someone is battling so be kind always” I’ve seen this countless times, shared it and posted it myself. But until you are the person with a smile on the outside for the world, and inside your world has fallen apart you will never truly understand it. What’s even more confusing is not knowing why your world has crumbled.

Nobody other than my Mum and my doctors know the full story. Even then, there are things that happen in my brain that only I know, but I don’t always understand them or know how to vocalise them so I keep them to myself. That’s something I am great at, keeping things to myself until I can’t hold anymore in and I burst. Into a rage, into tears and into anger and it’s probably the smallest thing that has triggered it. But deep down something has happened and I’ve pretended I am okay. I would tell myself “tomorrow will be better” or “stop thinking about it, it will go away” the worst one, the one I still tell myself daily “you have no reason to feel like this”.

From the outside it looks like I have it all, and to be honest I do. I have the most loving family, that have supported me through every single thing in my life. They have loved me and given me everything I could ever need and want. My mums boyfriend took me on as his own, I always had that father figure in my life whether it was my biological Dad, Mike or my Grandad. They made sure I never went without. I have an incredible bunch of friends! Best friends, girl groups, work friends, ex work friends, college friends, secondary and primary school friends, travel friends. All of which I know I could call on at anytime in a crisis and they would help me out. I feel safe with my many circles and always have the best of times with them. I am lucky enough to have the most loving and supportive partner I could ever wish for. This man walked into my life while I was having a breakdown, neither of us knew it yet, I think he just thought I was crazy but he loved me and continues to do so every single day. He reminds me of my worth, he makes me smile and laugh until my tummy hurts, he winds me up more than anything, but I know I’m loved and I wouldn’t change him or our relationship ever. I have a job I’ve worked so hard in, and continued to work up in. A job that allows me to travel the world so much easier than I ever thought possible. I have my beautiful little flat, my safety net. The one place in the world that sees all of my moods, and not once have I ever been scared to be here. So why on earth do I feel like I do? Like life isn’t worth living, like I can’t go on anymore?

Summer 2019, I lived my best life. Cringey as it sounds, I felt free. I’m not sure what from, but I had the best summer with the best people and lots of nights out or at the pub. This is what became my habit. Luckily, I’m not writing this as an alcoholic but that comfort of being surrounded by people for a little bit longer in the day became what would save me. Save me from going home and feeling, feeling a way I didn’t understand. I felt empty, yet I had everything? The Christmas period is always full of lots of drinks and food, and I took this to it’s full advantage. Out every weekend, nights in the week, last day of work. You name it, I made it an occasion that included being with the girls and drinking.

January is super hard, but as anyone in the travel industry knows, it’s a rough month. So I put my feelings down to that. Then February came around, it was the first anniversary of my Dad’s death, I felt sad and so I put it down to that. Only after the 5th February, I still felt sad. Incredibly sad, as if I could feel my heart hurting. As the next few weeks panned out, I quite literally lost all control of me. I didn’t know how to live. The night before my birthday I went out drinking with one of my best friends and my boyfriend. We end up back at hers and somehow my feelings come out. Flooding, quite literally with the amount of tears coming from my eyes. We talk about feelings, and how we are both a bit down and from that I realise how down I am. “I don’t want to live anymore” I tell her. And suddenly I understand my own feelings. The words that left my mouth, I was shocked at myself. I was pretending all was okay, and it had gotten so bad that I wanted to take my own life. We talked, I cried, we hugged, I cried, she told me it was time to get help, I cried. In my drunken loud state, my boyfriend had overheard me. We didn’t really talk about it, at least I don’t think we did, everything else now becomes a blur. It traumatised me so much that I finally knew how I felt and how sad I was, that I’ve blocked it out.

The next morning, I wake up with a very sore head. Not only was I extremely hungover, I had fallen into a tree the night before and cut my face and given myself a black eye. This was a waking point for me, I was so drunk I felt no pain. I thought it was funny. I guess in reality looking back, it was a sign it was time to go home. But, if I hadn’t and I didn’t get to have the conversation I had with my friend, who knows where I would be now. So not only have I got a sore head in every sense of the matter, I feel emotional and I feel like I can’t breathe. I get up, I keep telling my boyfriend I’m fine and it’s nothing to worry about, I’m hungover and I just need to get some water. I’m crying because I miss my Dad, so I go to call my Mum and this is the first time I tell her somewhat of how I’m feeling. She cheers me up, I have some water and hang up, and then it’s back. I go into my bathroom and I have a panic attack on my floor. I’ve suffered from panic attacks for years, so it’s nothing new to me. But that doesn’t make it any easier. I’m shaking, I’m crying, I can’t breathe and my head hurts. My boyfriend gets me up and makes me breakfast, I play it off again. “I just need a shower, to get dressed and go home to my family for the day, I’m fine”. I’m still in shock at the conversation I’ve had last night, I want to talk about it and get it out in the open, but as soon as it’s mentioned I pretend I’m fine and that I was drunk. “I do feel sad, but not that bad, I’ll be fine”.

The first time I actually imagined not being alive anymore and taking my own life was on my 23rd birthday. A day that should be filled with love, excitement and happiness. We traveled back to Lydney on the train, I was so exhausted from my panic attack I needed energy and sugar. My boyfriend and I go into the shop to get a drink, but it’s hot in there and I need to get back outside. I tell him I’ll wait just by the door and that “I’m fine, I can wait alone, nothings going to happen”. And then, in a moment that felt like hours, which was probably only seconds a freight train went passed and all I could think about was jumping out in front. What was happening to me? My legs felt like jelly, and I couldn’t breathe, again. This is part of my story that nobody knows. He came out of the shop, and guess what, I pretended I was fine. The rest of the day is a bit of a blur, I had a lovely evening with my family and it couldn’t have come at a much more needed time. But specific details aren’t that clear. I just kept thinking of how this might be the last time we are all in the same room together, unless it’s my funeral.

The next day, it’s my grandads birthday. I stick on one of my very practised fake smiles and don’t say much. I’m about to leave to head back home, and I decide to tell my mum I need to see a doctor. “I’m not okay, I don’t know what’s wrong me with me and I just need to speak to him” I tell her. I’ve been on antidepressants for over four years now so she knows that I need one of my one on one chats with the doctor, and that makes me feel okay again. I call and get an appointment, for the 17th March. That’s nearly a month away and all I can think of is how I’m going to keep myself alive for that long.

The next couple of days go by in a blur, I go to work and put my energy into that. And then finally it’s the weekend. The weekend I’ve been planning with the girls for months, my big birthday night out. A weekend that has now changed my life forever. The girls get to me and we head straight to the pub, we’ve been drinking since about 1pm and the day comes to a dark close about 2/3am. I have so many different groups of friends that have come to my flat, to celebrate me and my birthday and I feel so much love from them. And that was what hit me, this was the perfect time. I could have one last blow out with the people who are most important to me. Get ridiculously drunk, say my goodbyes and that would be it. It was a night of lots of events. I truly have the best friends, because so many of them knew I wasn’t okay. They kept asking but I would say my usual, “I’m fine, just drunk” I wasn’t fine. And in my head, this was it. The time had come, I couldn’t bear to have to say my goodbyes to my family, or my boyfriend. I left them notes on my phone. Notes of which I’ve deleted and have never shared with them. I didn’t even read them again myself. They were too painful. After a long night, we all decide to head home. I get emotional and suddenly I’m sobbing. I’m saying goodbye to people and they have no idea. I want to scream for help, tell them to not leave me tonight, I’m going to hurt myself and I’m scared. Instead, I tell them “I’m fine, just very drunk and I need to go to bed. I’ll get help, I know my depression is bad again but I’ll sort it. I have it planned, see you all soon. I love you”. One of my clearest memories of that night is closing the door, and feeling like I’ve closed the door on life. In that moment, I may as well have already been dead.

The next part is not something I wish to talk about in detail, but I’m sure you can imagine. I made sure everyone had picked up their things, my two friends that were staying were cosy in their beds and I locked myself away in my bathroom.

I didn’t succeed. In that moment, I panicked. I was in pain and blacking out but I didn’t want to die. I couldn’t scream for help because I didn’t have it in me. I saved myself. Cried, threw up, cried and put myself to bed in a big jumper that covered up to my eyes. I couldn’t admit to anyone what had just happened. The damage I had done to my body was nothing compared to how I had just scarred my mind.

The next day I played the hangover card. My best friend was with me, and she had no idea what had happened. She won’t have any idea unless she reads this. But she saved me. I couldn’t take my life with people in my home. So I would do it another time. But that day, she loved me and she didn’t even realise she was doing it. I woke up to a spotless flat from the party, she kept letting me sleep and then we went for breakfast. She then took me home to my Mum, if she hadn’t have done this I don’t believe I’d be here writing this.

I get home to my mum, she knows somethings wrong and asks if I’ve fallen out with my boyfriend, she thinks that’s why I’ve come home. I’m sure after our next conversation she wished that’s why I had come home. I told her how I felt, what happened, what I did. Not in so many words, she had to guess. I couldn’t say it out loud, I felt sick to my stomach. She called my step Dad, and he was with us within minutes. They both sat either side of the sofa with me, their arms around me while I sobbed. I didn’t know who I was anymore, I couldn’t understand why this was happening to me.

I went to work the next day, how I got there, sort of made it through and got back to Lydney I couldn’t tell you. Working with such an incredible team helps, being a manager is hard at the best of times. But working with an understandable bunch of wildcats makes it that bit easier. I hadn’t even got to my flat, let alone to work when my mum called. “I’ve got you into the doctors tomorrow morning, come back home to me tonight. I’m getting you help”. Relief and panic filled my body. I was quite certain once I admitted to how I felt, I would be locked up and they would throw away the key.

Mum quite literally had to drag me to the doctors, I wouldn’t get out of bed and I was definitely not getting dressed to go and tell a stranger how I felt. I had a panic attack in the car park outside, and as if by fate, my grandad was there. If my grandparents ever read this, I don’t know what I’ll say to them. They don’t know the full extent, and that’s because I didn’t want them to worry. I didn’t want anyone to worry, but I wanted to be safe in my own company and telling my Mum was the first step to this. My grandad gave me a hug, and told me it would be alright. I didn’t know it then, but as always, he was right.

I sat in this doctors office, who I had never met before and I couldn’t even look at her. Had a complete breakdown in front of her. Had my antidepressant dose doubled, given a crisis teams number for if I felt like I was going to hurt myself again, a number for a counselling team, told to go for a walk everyday and signed off of work for a month.

I walked out and just thought “what now?” Dread filled me about having to call my boss. “Oh hi, just to let you know I won’t be in for the next month. I’m depressed and attempted to take my own life. Nothing is physically wrong with me though, bye.” I should have known the call would never have gone like that, but my brain didn’t work at this time. At all. All it wanted to do was sleep, pretend the world had gone to sleep, and then wake up when everything was better. I kept saying to my mum, “how can a manager take a month off, just like that? I’m not physically ill, I can’t just not go in.” The thought of just leaving my team to deal with everything in my absence made me feel worse. Then I spoke to my boss, who could not have been more understanding if I wanted him to be. He was incredible with me, told me not to worry and to not think about work and focus on me. That’s what I needed, someone to take the pressure off. My life in Cheltenham had been put on pause and I was staying with my Mum in Lydney until I felt it safe enough to be on my own. I still didn’t tell anyone the full story, looking back I hate that I didn’t tell my boyfriend. All he wanted to do was help, but I kept up the “I’m fine” persona and carried on. He knew I wasn’t “fine” nobody gets signed off from work for a month because they are fine. My sick note just said the word depression and I was sticking with that. No extra details, I was getting better. Let’s focus on that.

The next few weeks are a time where I have never felt such love. Nobody left me on my own, my friends took it in turns to come and spend the evening with me. I did puzzles, colouring, went out walking. Easy tasks that didn’t take too much effort, but enough to keep me level headed. Of course I had wobbles, I would wake up in the middle of the night and think “it’s time again, for real now” and then I’d roll over and see my boyfriend, the man that didn’t leave my side and I knew I couldn’t leave him. He spent every moment he could with me when he wasn’t working, and he didn’t even know the full story. My Mum was asleep in the other room, although she probably wasn’t as she was just as scared about what I would do next as me.

Taking work stress out of the mix, I started to feel better. But then I worried about having to go through the same process when I got back to my flat. The place I hadn’t spent the night at since I had decided I didn’t want to live anymore. Would I go straight back to where I was when I got back? I didn’t know, and I wasn’t ready to find out.

I went to stay with a friend for a night the week before I went to New York. This was another thing I was worrying about, the plane, all of the people, being able to stay awake for more than a few hours to actually see anything. I got to my friends house and we went on a long dog walk, this was the first time I told my story to someone else. She cried, I cried, the dog carried on running in the fields but I had done it. I’d packed a bag, got all the way there on my own and was out in the beautiful fields, starting to feel again. She asked me if I would try it again, and at that time, I said “yes, I think so, probably.” We went out for some lovely food, got some snacks and watched a Disney film. She will never know how much this night changed my perspective. It was the first night in weeks, maybe months I had slept all the way through the night and woke up refreshed. I went for a coffee with some work friends that morning, it was the first time I had been back to Cheltenham in a long time. I was meeting two people who I class as some of my closest friends, they know everything and I mean everything there is to know about me. One of them is the girl who I originally told, the night before my birthday about how I no longer wanted to live. And the other, the person who as I was saying goodbye to on the night out, I knew I was saying goodbye to for the last time. Or so I thought. I had a sudden feeling of panic, I wasn’t well enough to see them, what would I say, how guilty would I feel when they got up to go to work and work extra hard as I wasn’t there. “Don’t be stupid, you can do this. They love you.” I told myself. And they did, of course they did. Oh how nice it was to have a normal conversation, over a hot chocolate and catch up on all of the gossip.

The friend I had spent the night with text me to see how I was doing and to make sure I got home okay. I had to be honest with her, “you’ve given me a reason to live. I want to be here to see your little babba, to watch you walk down the aisle” and it really was the first time I could see a future. How could I miss out on such important events? Things we have talked about since we met. No matter what it took, I was going to meet this baby and I was getting to be at that wedding.

Every week since my first appointment, I had to go back to the doctors to see how I was getting on. She told me it would be good for me to go to New York. The trip I had been planning for my Mum for a year, the trip of our dreams. I couldn’t think of anything worse. But everyone else thought it was good for me, so I listened. If I hated it I knew how good I was at my “I’m fine” face. New York gave me another reason to live again, travel runs in my blood. The city of dreams, had given me so many dreams. I want to go back, see more, experience more, meet more locals, try more food, cycle more of Central Park. I want more. For travel, for life, for me.

This was over two months ago, but since I’ve been back there’s not a lot to report on. I spent the first week at home with my Mum, came back to Cheltenham as I felt it was time to fall in love with my home again, and then the UK went into lockdown. Obviously for all of the right reasons, but I had no choice in being back here. Pacing the hallway I pace when I don’t know what to do, sleeping in the bed that I didn’t find comfortable anymore. I didn’t know it as home anymore, but as soon as I was back, I was okay. It was my home, full of my belongings, full of photos that bring me such joy and happiness, photos of family and friends. Memories. My flat is always the go to for parties, so there are so many hilarious memories I have here. So many more good than bad, and thankfully they outweigh them and I feel safe here.

When I think back to these times now, it’s like writing about someone else. And that’s how I know that I am getting better. I’m not 100% and I don’t know if I ever will be, but I’m not that girl anymore. Or at least I’m trying not to be. I’m being a lot more open with my feelings. Writing this has helped with that, because I’m not very good at telling people a full story because I don’t want to be a burden. Being in lockdown alone gives you plenty of time to think. I’m not at a point of my life yet where this isn’t at the forefront of my mind, but I believe one day it will be a memory. I have so much to live for. So many plans. I dream of being a Mummy one day, having someone depend on me like I depend on my Mum. I’d love to be a wife, live in a happy home that’s full of love. I still want to get out and see the world, visit friends in different countries. Do things that take me out of my comfort zone. I want to love and be loved. Make spontaneous plans and do something crazy. Ultimately I’ve realised that all I wanted was for the world to stop for a minute, give me a chance to get off and catch my breath and to carry on breathing and living. I didn’t want to die, I don’t want to die. I want to live, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do x

[samanthabreedlove-blog]

A few nights later, after class, I walk to the Palladium-- NYU’s athletic center, on 12th Street and 3rd Avenue. As I walk north on Broadway, the Arctic air so cold against my face, snots dripping from my nose all the way to my neck. Once inside the building, though, it's toasty and warm. The smell of chlorine from the Olympic sized swimming pool in the basement of the building is so overwhelming you can smell it even on the 3rd floor where the general exercise equipment is located.

I change in the women’s locker room and walk out into the empty gym. There is hardly anyone here at this hour. It's almost 10pm but I estimate I’ll still be able to get a solid 4 miles in plus a shower before they close at 11. I choose a treadmill, turn it on, set the pace and begin to run. Lately, after my evening classes, I like to come to the gym and run. This helps to clear my mind. My sprints have gotten faster and faster. I’ve achieved a steady 8 minute mile pace. It feels good to accomplish the goals I’ve set for myself-- chipping away at my run-time, resulting in tangible proof of my hard work.

While I run I become hyper-aware of the passing of time, and I am also aware of my physical movement. As I run, I imagine the landscape of Florida. Thoughts come in and are subsequently pushed out of my mind as my feet pound down onto the circulating rubber of the treadmill-- the weight of my body shakes the machine more and more the harder I run.  My mediation through this action repeats over and over inside my brain: “It is over now, it is in the past. The past is behind me, and the future is in my control.”

I imagine JR: I see his face as I saw it for the very last time-- framed by the window of the cab as he shut the car door. It is like a short movie that plays in my head every time I run; after the cab comes the memory of sitting at Reagan International drinking whiskey alone at the airport bar, tears streaming down my face-- so much so that strangers stare but they know better than to ask me what’s wrong. Then the memory of the Washington Monument visible through the oval of my window seat as the plane takes off and flies over the Mall before setting course south towards Florida. In memory, I can see myself in third person: sad aching body as it sobs in near silence for all 800 miles back to Tampa where my mother will pick me up once we land because I can’t stand for anyone else to see me in this state. That feeling was boiling over so intensely inside of me I swear I could taste it in my mouth-- my heart heavy with a new kind of sadness-- aware for the first time with absolute certainty that I meant nothing to him.

***

I’d gone to visit JR in D.C. where he’d moved in early 2008, after shit hit the fan once Margaret found out about not only me, but the other handful of woman he’d been sleeping with after breaking the seal of infidelity in my bedroom that past July. JR had stuck around just long enough for the full force of the crash to whip back from him to me.

Everyone loved Margaret. She was universally lovable. A thing I never considered until after, and under the weight of everyone else’s judgement: how easy it is to slut shame the woman. Everyone expected this from JR. He’d done it before. But, they hadn’t from me; well-- How could I? What was I thinking?

I was a home-wrecker, a whore. A pathetic drunk who ought to gain some self-respect. An elitist bitch who destroyed everything. Funny how quick a town full of miscreants gains a moral compass. Except it wasn’t really funny at all. My spirit was crushed; instead of having him, I had the judgemental eyes of everyone else around me. Wherever I went, there they were looking at me like I was a disease, like I was crazy. Was I crazy? Maybe I was crazy.

First week in January, after she’d kicked him out, JR came to find me at Dirty Nelly’s-- a bar just south of State Theater on 8th street that people would come to when the band at the Emerald was awful. Nelly’s was unremarkable other than the fact that it had a pool table and shag-carpeting which seemed like a really poor choice for a dive bar. But if the Emerald was out of the question that night, you knew Nelly’s was where everyone was gonna be.

I was surprised to see him, further still that he came straight over to my table. We hadn’t spoken since the Christmas Party. The first words out of his mouth were: “We should talk. Alone. She kicked me out.”

When the shoe finally drops, no matter how much you think you’re ready for it, you really just aren’t. I told him okay, that I’d be back and went off to find Quinn.

Quinn was in town on winter break from the New School where she was finishing the last year of her BFA. She’d been staying with me on my couch like she always would. I found her in the bathroom reapplying her lipstick and chatting with Carolyn who was taking a piss. I told her what JR’d just disclosed. She says back to me straight away, “get him out of here-- I’ll find someone to go home with.”

Quinn is my best friend. We were born exactly one week apart, and on each other’s due dates: me one week early, her a week late. Friends since grade 6, she’d moved to New York City in 2005 with Laura before the thought had really occurred for me to leave Florida. They both live in a basement cement loft off the Halsey Stop on the L train where they commute into the City, working together at the Strand Bookstore in Union Square.

Quinn’s tall at 5’11, with curves for days, a body built just exactly like Beyonce. Her eyes the color of dark chocolate with the face like the fawn of a deer, Quinn is both sweet and steady. Her presence in any room feels like the steep, strong column holding up the architecture of everything. I kissed her on the cheek before scooping JR up and driving us both back to my place.

There on my couch, we sat in dark silence for a long time before he says, “You weren’t the only one, and she doesn’t know about you yet. But it’s only matter of time and you should prepare yourself for that. We both should”

I didn’t say anything back. After a while he went on.

“This a mess, and it is going to get a lot worse. I need to figure out how to not live here anymore and fast”

His eyes are wet with tears and I realize for the first time just how much he really does love her. What I feel in return for JR, as he sits in so much sadness on my couch isn’t jealousy, or anger, or fear. But, rather, just an intense desire for him to be okay. It’s really dark in my house, all the lights are out in the living room but the lamp left on in the kitchen casts shadows, creating a pattern across JR’s pale and tear stained face. I’m fixated on him, but he won’t look back at me. He’s looking at the wall with his forehead in his hand. I start to cry too, but I’m not really sure why and I don’t want him to see so I get up to pour us a couple glasses of bourbon. I return, taking a place on the floor, looking up at him in the dark I hand him the glass.  

He sips, and after a while he says, “We can’t be together, it’s a mistake. It was a mistake for me to come here.”  

I don’t say anything but I reach for his hand and he takes it.

“I love her, and--and look what I did, I- I can’t do that to you too. I can’t do that to you, period. I don’t know what is going to happen next but we should stay as far away from one another as possible. For your sake and for the sake of what’s gonna happen once this all comes out.” His voice is stammering.

For the first time I speak: “I’m not going to do that, JR.”

I feel calm as I climb into his lap. Holding his face in my hands, I comfort him the way I know how. I lift off my shirt and put his hands on my hips.

“Everything will be okay, no matter what happens, everything is going to be fine. ” I tell to him, my voice full of strength from a source I can’t identify but feel with conviction.

His body presses hard to mine in recognition. We made love in the middle of the living room floor and wake to the sound of Quinn coming in the back door the next morning.

Within the month JR’s left, nevering having said good-bye. He took me to the Hold Steady show a couple days after we made love in the living room. They were playing the Skatepark of Tampa Anniversary show hosted at Czar-- a communist themed Russian club in Ybor that has thick red velvet curtains, tiger striped carpeting, an excellent vodka selection and a huge stage in its ‘Imperial Theater’ where bands would play. He’d bought my ticket and my drinks, and even helt my hand at one point but after that night JR stopped taking my calls.

One night a couple weeks later, at the Independant-- a fancy hipster bar in St. Pete with over 70 international beers on tap, I spotted him there with a pretty girl in a pixie cut. Because God must hate me, our two parties combined and there I am sitting across from him with the new girl’s hand in his, all this visible to me just under the metal table where we sat. It’s her birthday, I’ve gathered. She is 23 and her name is Jenn. JR avoids eye contact with me until, at some point, his gaze searches then finds mine. We are sitting directly across from one another and a million miles apart. Across the distance, his eyes say to me ‘I’m sorry you’re seeing this’ but not ‘I’m sorry this is happening’. The inflections of his facial movements tell me ‘I told you I’m bad news. I wish you would had listened.’

That February, Sarah told me he’d moved. I pretended like I could give a shit, but my heart was broken. JR had moved to D.C. to take a contract job until the position he’d really been gunning for would come together: front end web design for XM Radio where his sister worked and had arranged for an interview. Back in St. Pete everyone had found out that I was the one he’d cheated with and everywhere I went the gossip followed. Even people I considered friends looked at me like I was pathetic and not a good person. Ill equipped to deal with this feeling, I was drinking a lot. That April, just after my 24th birthday, I ran into him at the Emerald-- he’d come down for his baby sister’s wedding and was out on the town showing off how he didn’t live here anymore. At the bar I mentioned wanting to come visit and he said I should. I justified it as professional development: The Women in the Arts Museum had just opened, for which my company was a sponsor, and Raymond James would pay for the trip if I wrote a piece about the inaugural exhibition. I wrote that piece, but I went exclusively to see him.

I went to D.C. because I wanted JR to give me something I knew in the back of my mind he probably never would-- some indication that I mattered to him, that all of what had happened was real. That it transpired, that I wasn’t losing my mind. Or, conversely, that I meant nothing: I needed closure and I naively thought he’d give it to me of free will. But instead, all I got was the knowing that I was just be a mistake he made-- a thing he had come to regret.

We spent the weekend in the Beacon Hotel on Capitol Hill because he was freshly kicked out of the apartment he was shacking-up in while taking advantage of a 39 year old woman who thought he loved her. Terri was also who he’d been interviewing with for that position at XM, and once hired she would be his boss. But he didn’t love her. In reality, he just couldn’t afford rent for his own place until after saving up a few paychecks and he desperately wanted that job-- those saved up paychecks JR subsequently blew on our hotel room because he was completely hitting rock bottom and lacked all semblance of self-control.

He’d seemed excited for my visit at first but once I was there, JR was different-- nothing felt right.  His intense desire for me to leave him alone was perceptible the entire time I was with him, even when we were having sex. When JR put me in that cab and slammed shut the door, I knew we’d never speak again. The relief that I was finally going plastered across his face clear as day.

Hand written on hotel stationary, and pressed in the palm of his hand before putting me in that cab:  

“You should know that I really believed that I could forgive you. Though I know now that I can’t. Wilde says those who are faithful know only the trivial side of love: it is the faithless who know love’s tragedies. And I’m better for that; for having loved you despite the fact that the esoteric nature of our relationship has finally knocked the wind out of me, and I’m resolved to the fact that whatever the reason, you and I are over.

Maybe in another lifetime we’ll get it right.

-Samantha”

Back in St. Pete, once the reality had really set in, Carolyn, Diane and I went to the ocean in the middle of the night because being in the salt water was the only thing that would calm my aching soul. We stripped all our clothes off and swam far out into the Gulf. Carolyn was the first to notice the phosphorescence, she pointed it out and we both looked down to see the shimming greenblue of the bioluminescent tides as they rolled over our bare breasts.

“It’s the color they make when they announce to the world, letting each other know ‘I exist, I am here!’, so they can find one another and reproduce.” Carolyn tells us. “Isn’t it magical?”  She is dipping her hand down into the water and scooping up a handful of the shimming water.

I let my body float in the Gulf as I watched how the colors looked just like thousands of fireflies all over my skin. I looked up at the full moon and I saw how the world was so big and full of so much beauty. I knew then that my story wouldn’t end here in Florida, I was destined for something more and I was free now from the power JR had held over me. I would find my magic, I would cast my life like a net into the great expanse of the sea-- I would be open to whatever would come of it.

***

While I’m running late at night at the gym, I confront these memories head on: this sacred space, with the full force of my body in motion, is the only place I let these thoughts seep in.

I concentrate on how every mile completed is a mile further away from him and closer to the promise I’d made to myself that night we went swimming in the ocean. This thought helps me run farther, and run faster. Despite what’s transpired, my love for him persists. It bubbles up in my torso, so I push it down deep into the recesses of my soul. I lock it down inside of me and I imagine that I’ve thrown away the key. This becomes the fuel from which I draw upon as I make my way in the world outside of where I’ve come from. I am dedicated to my successes not for him, but in spite of him. I am my own keeper: my body will never be broken for JR. He will no longer drink from my blood. My love for him reinvents as a way by which I make sense of myself, and I put that self at the forefront of everything.

[wewontliveforeversomakeitworthit]

My Story

Hi, my name is Lisa and I am an alcoholic. My sobriety date is January 3rd 2017 I have a home group, love and service in Rochester NY, i have a sponsor, i have a service position and I am currently working the 12 steps of Alcoholics Anonymous. Today I shared at the forensics unit at our psych center and nothing came out right and i didn’t actually know how to share my story so I’m going to try to gather my thoughts and share it on here before my next share. I grew up in what would appear to be just a totally normal middle class home in Henrietta NY. I have 4 older sisters and 2 incredibly loving amazing supportive and sometimes absolutely insane parents. While i was growing up I felt exactly how alot of people say that they did too, i felt different, left out and not good enough for anybody. In elementary school I was already a compulsive liar, telling people that i had boyfriends and stupid stuff like that. I turned to food to hide my feelings and to hide myself and that turned into me being bullied for being over weight. And even from that young age i took the things that those people said to me straight to heart and it was gospel and they were right, I was fat, i had awful acne, i was ugly and nobody would ever love me because of my appearance. I decided I wanted to lose that weight when i was going into 8th grade and I lost some of it and was actually pretty normal for the most part at that time. I then thought i was completely in love with a guy in 8th grade who was also my best friend and we hung out over that winter break and i thought something was going to happen, like obviously we were going to be in love and get married but instead he told me that he didn’t want me in that way, turns out hes actually gay now but it sent me on a downward spiral into mental illness that was lurking in the shadows of my life since I could think. I developed anorexia and starved myself every day until i got down to about 100lbs, my family and I went on vacation and being around them i wasn’t able to eat (well not eat) the way that I was. I cried every single night on that vacation because of how utterly disgusted with myself i was. I then came home and developed bulimia because the control of the starving was completely gone. But the night that boy told me he didn’t want me, something else happened. I drank, it was NYE at my sisters house and I was 14 years old, her friends asked me if i wanted a drink and god did i want a drink. I wanted to feel the careless joy the people around me were feeling. They made the mistake of showing me where their green tea vodka was and i started drinking and didn’t stop until it was gone. I remember while i was drinking that something inside of me started to change, i wasn’t shy and concerned with what other people were thinking of me anymore, i didn’t care at all about anything. I remember my tongue and my cheeks getting numb and i was on cloud nine.  After that night i was too preoccupied with my ED to give a fuck about drinking or drugging until bulimia came into play. I started snorting adderall so that i wouldnt eat and that went on through ninth grade until i went to program for my eating disorder and those people saved me from dying from that disease. But after i got out of that program, life got real. I had about a year of decent normalcy but at the beginning of my junior year things started to progress. I started to not give a shit about school at all, i started skipping classes and going to parties on weekends and drinking whenever it was an option for me. I started dating guys who were really just not good people and i had only one friend. We went out when we could but it never dawned on me that I was drinking any differently than any of the other kids i was around because really I wasn’t but the way it was affecting me and the way i was thinking about it was COMPLETELY different from those kids. They would stop drinking so they could drive home or they literally had DD’s but to be honest i dont remember much about those couple of years. I graduated highschool early because i hated literally everyone and i was convinced that they all hated me and judged me because most of the time they did. In my senior year i started using the tinder app and i would go over to random guys houses and meet them and every time that happened id get to drink, in my bio it even said “alcohol enthusiast”. boy was i wrong. I thought it was normal to do what i was doing, i really didnt think twice about it. Meeting these guys and being able to get black out drunk and then maybe sleep with them just seemed like a normal thing to do. Until my parents started asking questions about where i was going and why there were alcohol containers in my car and i would lie and say they were someone elses but theyre not stupid they knew they were mine. Things slowed down a little while i was in my first couple semesters of nursing school, i still drank but just on weekends with my boyfriend at the time and his roommates, and i thought i was drinking normally but i guess blacking out and starting fights on purpose because of your drinking isn’t neccesarily normal. I wouldn’t walk around the park ave area with him at night time unless he wanted to drink and that became a norm for me. I needed a drink if i was going to do anything at all, go to the movies? drink. hang out with literally anyone? drink. watching some tv? drink. While my boyfriend at the time went on vacation for christmas i decided to go to a party because if i saw anything about anyone drinking on social media i was on top of it, i made sure i had a way to get drunk whenever and i went to that party and i did cocaine for the second time in my life. the first time i really dont remember much but it was before i had met Kenny. So he went away and I went to a harmless party and kept my drinks near me like they were my children. I heard they were doing shots downstairs and i went down there and took probably 7 tequila shots in a row and blacked out, i came too when i started doing lines and by the time it was 7am i was calling him asking him to help me. That was a thing of mine, was to get drunk one place and then message or text as many people as possible to help me because i needed to go somewhere else or do something else because i didn’t want the fun to end. I kept on drinking the way i was drinking but because of how sick and awful i had felt i didn’t touch drugs again for a little while but i did wind up finding them again. but then all of a sudden over the summer of last year, shit hit the fan. I was drinking every single night and one night i went and hungout with a guy i had met probably on tinder and he said he needed to stop by a friends house for a birthday gift and i was like oh yeah ok cool, turns out his friend was the supplier for the whole town he lived in and she offered me some and i actually said no. i scolded him for his awful decision making and we went to Durand beach to get drunk and by the end of that night i had at some point asked if i could have some of his drugs so that i could safely drive home and obviously he said yes and then life went crazy. i went back to durand with that same person but met a whole bunch of other people and some how met a small group of people another time on that night and i wish i had clearer details but i was really a black out drinker and i wouldnt come to unless i had something else in my system. So we met this other smaller group of people and my life changed. some how i started attracting people who had what i thought i needed and wanted and id switch back and forth between these peoples houses getting free drinks and drugs and staying up for days at a time and not coming home and moving from job to job trying to keep my head above water. I wouldn’t stop thinking about being able to get the next drink or drug. Id go to morning classes after not sleeping in two days and be completely strung out or just not go at all. I got to a point where i couldnt drink without putting a drug in my system and i tried. I tried to stop myself from getting too drunk by switching drinks or not having as many and i was convinced i didn’t have a problem because i didn’t drink during the day so i clearly wasn’t an alcoholic. I would try to drink around people who didn’t approve of me doing drugs and i still somehow managed to go from house to house to house getting drinks and drugs until there was nothing left. One night i was at a house with all of these people i had been drinking and drugging with who i thought i really was just living the life with and i went upstairs and had a panic attack. I wanted to go home because something in me created a feeling that told me i no longer belonged there. So after 3 days of not being home and countless cries for help to my therapist and other people i called my parents at 4am and told them i was coming home and sobbing i told them i needed to talk to them. That night i told them about what i had been doing and got myself an intake appointment for outpatient. And i still at that point thought i probably only had a drug problem and that it wasn’t the drinking. i really didnt think it was the drinking. But once i started outpatient, i couldnt for life of me stay sober but i wanted it i really did. and when i tell you that night i went home that i was desperate for help i mean i wanted to die. i spent so many days of coming down just praying for god to take my life because truly i couldn’t live it anymore. Times id come home so sick and dehydrated my mom would have to run IV’s through me and id lay on that bathroom floor wishing it would all just end. I had known about AA but it was introduced to me through a girl in my outpatient and she told me she was going to a meeting and i told her i wanted to go. I had just relapsed for what would be the last time and i wanted to be sober more than anything and i couldn’t handle the constant relapses. My first AA meeting was wits end when it was upstairs at Rosedale and i was not buying any of it. I was convinced that all those young people car pooling were getting drunk directly after the meeting and that they were all just liars and fakes. I was texting someone ABOUT getting drunk at that meeting but luckily nobody would comply because on that Sunday i went to a womens meeting in fairport and i felt so engulfed with love and acceptance it was incredible. These women gave me a coin and hugged me and even though they talked about god they were something i hadnt experienced in a long time and that was happy without needing a drink or a drug to do it. I was handed that 24 hour coin and I decided maybe I’d do a couple more of these meeting things but i wouldn’t get involved like they were. My friend and i started going to a 5:30 meeting that was mostly old people or people off the street who were drunk but i stuck around for long enough to meet Pat and he was the FIRST person i heard share within my 2 months of meetings that i could actually relate to and for the first time i went up and talked to someone after they spoke and i told him how much i related and he told me to go to his home group Love and Service and that he wanted to introduce me to someone and that someone turned out to be my sponsor. I had no idea what i was doing and i knew that if i didn’t start to actually do something other than meetings that i was going to drink again and i didn’t want that for myself anymore. So my sponsor and i didnt even discuss her sponsoring me it just happened and she told me to get phone numbers and find a home group and a service position and it took me a couple weeks but i did it. meanwhile, my friend who introduced me to AA asked me if i was calling my sponsor every day and i was like uhhhh what do you mean call her everyday?????? and my friends like yeah duh thats like an unspoken aa rule and i called my sponsor right after that i was like OMG IM SO SORRY I DIDNT KNOW I WAS SUPPOSED TO CALL YOU EVERY DAY. Mostly i just didn’t have any idea how the hell to communicate with people anymore without being drunk. My social awkwardness was at level 100 and im still working on that lol. but we met up and she started to pray and she said “hey god” in the beginning of the prayer like he was just a friend and i was like oh good i got a crazy one idk how well this is gunna workout. but she started taking me through the book and something else changed, i started to grow. this is the longest ive ever done literally anything in my life and it has changed my life drastically already even just at almost 6 months sober. Today I have a full time job that i actually go to every day, today I’m able to be a daughter, a sister, a friend. Today I am learning who i am and how to deal with life on lifes terms and im becoming patient and im just in this constant growth and its absolutely amazing. I’ve found a higher power that i dont understand at all but I know its there and im able to learn things about myself every day and get called out when i’m wrong and just begin to actually live and its amazing. I’m still a work in progress but I am so beyond grateful to be here. Thank you

[princezukohere]

Still friends *revisited* part 3

1871 words

part 1

part 2

The breakup, the actual thought of it made your heart. It had been your fault, the choice was yours and he agreed to make you happy. You wanted to call it a mutual agreement but it wasn't, it was you....all you. 

Arguing wasn't a thing you and Shawn did often, you both tried to stay away from arguing but sometimes one thing lead to another and you two ended up in the situation you were in now.

"Because I'm tired Shawn, I'm so fucking tired all the time!" You yelled at him over the phone. 

"What do you want me to do!" He yelled back, "I'm not there N/Y."

"That's the thing, Shawn! You're never here, you're not around when I need you." You bit your lip sitting again your bedroom door. Your parents were out and you genuinely wished that they were here so you could hug your mom and get the best advice from your dad.

"What do you want from me? I can't just drop the tour and come back...I'm sorry but I can't." Shawn said, his voice getting softer.

"That's not what I want....I would never ask you to do that." 

"Then tell me what you want, so I can fiX this." Shawn started, it only made it harder for you to say what was coming next.

"I want to break up, I don't want to be with you anymore." You lied, you lied so hard and you could feel your eyes start to burn but it needed to be done.

"That's not what I want...N/Y, I get off tour in two months, can't we just talk about it then...we can work out, we always do."

"Not this time...I need to go, I have to explain why I don't have have ten songs when I asked and begged for twelve and then hope they don't pull two bonus songs and make them part of the album itself." You're mouth was dry, you held your hand against your mouth trying to stop the sobs from coming out.

"N/Y, can't we just....talk-" You stopped him.

"I can't I'm sorry." You broke, you knew he heard, but his voice and the idea of his voice and his face and those eyes...the look he gave you and that smile, you loved it all. You loved him and everything about him and how honest and open he was with you. You loved that he could just sit and play guitar, he could just sit and play with your hair, he could just sit and write songs. You hung up the phone before either of you could say anything else. 

You knew Shawn, you knew him better than you thought you did. You're phone rang, you took a deep breath looking at it. His name was on your screen, the call soon ended and before he called back you turned your phone off.

you felt dead, empty, you gave him up...you didn't fight for him like he was fighting for you.

"Dammit." You mumbled taking your phone in your hand, you could turn it back on and see the face time picture you made your home screen. "Dammit." You said again, you got attached to this perfect human and you ruined it, you let the stress get in the way. "Dammit!" You yelled throwing your phone at the wall. You didn't need to look at the screen to see that you broke it.

You walked into the bathroom looking at yourself, you're eyes were already red, you felt sick. Turning on the shower and waiting for it gave you time to think of what you needed to do, what you wanted to do. You got under the water letting it soak your clothes, before you knew it you were on the floor in the shower, back against the wall. It was as if you were cleaning yourself from all the sins you've ever committed, eyes closed and head back, you were free and not in the way you wanted to be. 

when you finally got out everything felt different, the air wasn't cold but warm and the door was opened. You walked out, you're mom waiting on the edge of your bed.

"Shawn called."  She started, you stood there looking at her.  "He told me what happened, said you weren't answering your phone." She continued, you hated that he was close to your parents, that they could know everything single thing going on with you. "He wants to know if you're okay."

"I'm fine, you can tell him that I'm perfectly fine, better than ever actually." You told her grabbing the towel that was on the bed.

"Why can't you tell him?" She asked she knew why, she wanted you to marry Shawn and have kids with him, he was your first proper relationship and be made you happy. Of course, she wanted you two together. 

"That's not a good idea." You mumbled, she left it at that, "You're dad's getting you a new phone tomorrow. I told him to leave you phoneless but he wasn't okay with that idea, don't break through next one please." She finished before leaving.

When you woke up that morning, to say you felt like shit would be an understatement but you had commitments. You took a proper shower, getting ready to go. Walking down the stairs, you pulled your hair into a ponytail reaching for your car keys.

"Where are you going?" Your mom asked poking her head asked around the corner.

"Studio, I need two more songs." You explained grabbing your shoes from the placemat.

"Are you sure? You didn't get much sleep last night." She wasn't wrong, you cried a bit and then watched t.v before getting cookies from the pantry, finally sleeping for at least three hours. 

"I'm fine mom...if I just stop living my life because we broke up then I'd be breaking a promise I made to the people who want another album."

"I'm not saying give up your life but I'm saying it's okay to be upset and maybe working on music when you're in your state isn't a good idea." She stated.

"What does that even mean? Mom, I'm fine."

"N/Y you cried almost all night and barely slept. I know you enough to know that you're not okay and that's okay. He was your first boyfriend-"

"Yeah Shawn was my first boyfriend, but that doesn't mean anything." Another lie, "He's a good guy and I care about him, I do but he isn't what I need right now." A bigger lie. "I will be okay, he isn't the center of my world, my life doesn't revolve around Shawn Mendes, it revolves around music and a passion that I have."

"Then why are you wearing his sweater?" She asked, you went to say you weren't but you were. You looked down, it was routine, you put it on without even realizing it. 

"I'm cold, but I can take it off." You said pulling it over your head. "See, it's gone, it's over...just like he and I." You spoke, not wanting to look at her, you're eyes watering again. "Can I go?" You asked quietly because you knew if you got louder your voice would break and you'd be crying.

"The first one hurts, you'd be lying if you said that you're break up with him didn't hurt." She spoke coming closer to you. You stood there silently, it hurt so much and you hated that she was right. Your body moved, once then again and again, tears fell down your face. She wrapped her arms around you and you held on tightly.

"Why does it hurt so much?" You asked quietly. 

"Because when you love someone and you make the choice to not be with them anymore...it feels as if you're being punched in the gut."

-------------

"Yeah, we can talk about the breakup." 

"What was the reason behind it?" Selena asked.

"A lot played a factor in it...I was and still am a very insecure person. With my dad leaving and my birth mom passing then going through foster home to foster home, it's overpowering. When you feel alone and abandoned you sometimes just rush off buildings instead of using the stairs or the elevator. Shawn and I were apart for a long time and it wasn't jealousy, I never worried that he'd find someone else while he was away but my own insecurities that maybe I was holding him back or because I was in L.A and he's traveling the world he was missing out. The fact that when he gets off of his tour and instead of going home to Canada he'd stop and he'd see me and we'd hang out then he would take me to Canada with him..I felt like I was a big factor in his life and that it was the reason why he was always so stressed and I didn't want to make him resent me because he wasn't able to do things because he had a girlfriend."

"When did you guys start talking again?"

"I cried a lot to my mom because I didn't know how to handle it or what to do or why I felt the way I did. The end of January he got a break and he came to L.A to visit and we talked about it and where we stood."

---------

Shawn stood by your door as you sat on your bed, neither of you talking. It wasn't awkward but uncomfortable that neither of you moved, you refused to look at him but he would only stare at you.

"I don't like this." He spoke moving to sit next to you. 

"Neither do I." You mumbled finally looking at him.

"Then can't we just get past this? I'm not going anywhere, it's you and I." He told you, taking your hand in his.

"Shawn...I can't just stop feeling the way I feel. I get that you're here. you could have gone home but you stopped to see me. I get that you care about me, I care about you so much but my brain has wall up and it's sent this wall to every part of me and as much as I try to remove them....they're still there and I'm sorry but I can't be in a relationship right now."

"I'm not leaving until we work something out okay...I promised you something and I'm normally breaking it."

"Then we're friends...just like before we started dating?" Shawn nodded, it was something and he'd take it. 

"Yeah, we can still be friends."

----------

"He just agreed that fast?" Selena asked. You nodded, "Such a sweet guy, it shows that he really cares about you." She added before looking at the next card. "Last question of the night, are you a virgin?" She asked.

A blush came to your race, "No." You answered honestly, and now the questions would come in and you'd have to pick and choose between the ones you'd and answer and the ones that you acTed as if they don't exist.