Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 122514 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 613(@200wpm)___ 490(@250wpm)___ 408(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122514 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 613(@200wpm)___ 490(@250wpm)___ 408(@300wpm)
My voice broke off.
In one sense, this was embarrassing. In another sense, I was exposing myself again and bracing for what he’d say in return. But most of all, I was saying what I meant, and deep down I knew I would handle whatever came back from it.
That was freeing.
It was needed.
This. This was a part of moving on. I couldn’t explain it, but I felt it. I knew it.
I looked up again, unshed tears pooling in my eyes. “I fell in love with you, but I am still really messed up, and I am still really exposed, and I am… I am like a toothless saw that had all its jagged edges fall out, and you have to put them back in. Glue them. I don’t know how you do it—buy a new saw? Though since I’m the broken one, I hope you don’t do that. Anyway, a toothless saw, that’s me.”
I smiled, my lips curled over to blanket my teeth. “Like this. I’m like a shark with no teeth.”
“Shut up.” He moaned, his head swaying from side to side. “You are unbelievable. You sent me all these really deep texts, and now you’re joking about being a toothless shark while you’re professing your love? Really?”
I said it simply. “I love you, and I’m telling you, and I don’t have much more to expose, because what I have, I’ve already shown. The rest is self-preservation, in case you decide to walk out of here. I’ll crumble, but I’m really hoping that doesn’t happen.”
More because I really love basketball, and if you leave me, I’ll have to stop watching ball, and that’ll hurt too.
It’ll be like a second dumping all over again.
So please, please, please, don’t walk out and leave me behind.
Please don’t—
I looked up. He stepped closer, his head tilted to the right.
I eyed his hands. They were at his side.
I wanted them on me. Once he reached for me, he could make the world go away. All the hurt and sadness, all that was stripped away under his touch, but he didn’t lift them to me.
“The correct usage of crazy aside, you are a complete ball of psychosis at times.”
That’s what he said.
My chest filled with warmth.
He laughed, a self-deprecating edge to it. “Having said that, you were like an itch. I needed to scratch it, and the more I did, the more it grew until it took me over completely.”
He began to scratch at his chest idly. “It was on the outside at first, then on the inside. I felt like I was being tickled constantly. I liked it, but it was odd at the same time, and then suddenly one day, I found myself wondering about you. I wanted to know what you were doing, how you were. I mean, you were thirteen feet away in a ball cage, but I still had the thoughts. They just built and built, and you started to fucking take over. All my brother shit, that got pushed aside. You and basketball. That was what I thought about, and it was nice—a nice break from everything else. And somewhere along the line I began worrying about you, caring about you, doing things to make you feel better, to make sure you were okay. Then we started screwing and I thought, Okay, this will get her out of my system. It was the opposite. You started to consume me, and I hated it. I loathed it, but I couldn’t do anything about it. It’s like you decided to take over everything inside my body, move in, and be content to live with me for the rest of time, and I had no say about it.”
He scowled at me. “It was really fucking annoying. Now you’re in there, and I give a shit. And I want you around me all the time. And I loved that your boss got canned, and I loved fucking you away from camp. And then I had to leave, and I just wanted to be back with you. I didn’t care where it was. Here, I mean, not really here. We’re in Chicago, but you know what I mean. If I’m on the road or in Seattle or at your place—wherever you are. I just want to be around you, and I want to make you happy, and I don’t ever, ever want you to walk away from me again.”
He stepped closer, within touching distance. His eyes were so fierce, shooting daggers at me. “Got it? You’re all about being exposed and shit—well, you’re not alone. I love you, and I have no idea what to do with this. I don’t say pretty words or make fucking declarations. I like you. I love you. I want to always be with you, and that’s that. Right? Isn’t that good enough?”