Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 89978 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89978 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
He shakes his head in regret. “I will never drink a drop of alcohol. I need you to know that. I was him. I was my dad. The fucking life of the party who had to be escorted out before I further embarrassed myself. And I’ll never go back.”
I resist the urge to hug him. Given the words exchanged upstairs earlier, this is a conversation we need to have.
“How did your drinking get out of control?”
His forehead wrinkles, but he doesn’t bring his gaze to mine. “I got too far into a relationship that wasn’t right, but I felt like a dick trying to get out of it, so I … coped.”
“Well,” I laugh despite nothing being funny, “I feel like we’re in a relationship. And it’s starting to feel serious.”
This brings his gaze to mine. “I won’t let it go too far unless I know it’s right.”
“What was wrong with the last one? If I can ask.”
His lips twist, gaze intensifying. “I thought love was enough, but then I realized she had a different view of married life.” He grunts a laugh, slowly shaking his head. “She didn’t want kids, and instead of walking away, I thought I could drink my way through it, and then I wouldn’t have to disappoint anyone. Turns out, I disappointed everyone.” Finally, he looks at me. “Do you want kids?”
I shrug. “I don’t not want them. I haven’t needed to give it much thought.” That’s not entirely true. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not a planner or overachiever. I live in the moment.”
“I’m not asking you to have my babies; I’m just …” He eyes me as if expecting me to finish his thought.
I don’t finish it. There’s no need. Instead, I push off the counter and slide my arms around his waist, tucking my hands into his back pockets and squeezing his ass until he relinquishes a grin.
“I have an idea.”
He presses his lips to the top of my head. “Hmm?”
“Do you have a tent?”
“Of course.”
“Great. Let’s set it up in the backyard, open the top flap, and stare at the stars.”
Koen chuckles. “You want to stargaze with me?”
“I do.”
He eyes me with wonder, the good kind, where I can imagine great possibilities running amuck in his mind. And I know this because it’s how I look at him.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
IT’S ENLIGHTENING TO REALIZE THAT CONTROLLING NOTHING IS THE MOST EMPOWERING FEELING IN THE WORLD.
Price
Another day, another journal entry. I’ve been in Austin for almost two months.
Two months of watching Scottie fall in love with Koen.
Two months of befriending the man well on his way to having the life I gave up twelve years ago.
Two months of seeing that look of distrust in his eyes. When will he give me a break and settle into our bromance?
My pen taps on the paper. Is today a sketch or words?
Words. I have a lot of feelings today. But where do I begin?
How did I become an expert on women? How can I make them fall in love with me and disappoint them beyond words? I loved her as much as a man could love a woman, but even that most coveted emotion has limits. Being someone’s “everything” holds a power that’s too great for any human being. She wanted me to be her “’til-death-do-us-part” person, and so did I.
But nobody thinks that through.
For richer or poorer. Define poorer.
In sickness and in health. Define sickness.
In good times and in bad. How bad is bad?
Love isn’t everything; context is.
Is the ultimate sacrifice the only kind? Or are there degrees to which one person sacrifices themselves for another? She may never know that I saved her from the worst kind of grief.
I hope I did.
And in the process, I’ve made some valuable progress in my life.
Today, I can touch my toes. When I started this journey, I could barely reach past mid-shin.
Today, I made it twenty minutes with my meditation. I think I get it. For twenty minutes, I rest and exist in the moment. All thoughts and physical sensations drift in and out of my moment. I don’t grab them, nor do I chase them away. I control nothing.
It’s enlightening to realize that controlling nothing is the most empowering feeling in the world.
The sun is out after a spell of rain, and it’s seventy degrees in March.
What are my thoughts on earthing? Do it.
I’ve had some funny looks from the neighbors, but I don’t care. For thirty minutes, I walk barefoot in the yard, feeling like a new person, or at least a renewed person.
“Do you know how often my dog has peed in your yard?” a man in a tweed flat cap, probably in his mid-sixties, says while strolling past my front yard with his white Shih Tzu’s nose to the ground.
I smile, hands in my pockets, gaze affixed to the grass. “Probably not as many times as I’ve pissed in yours.” Glancing up at him, I wink.