He absolutely regrets hooking up. It was a result of too much forced affection, too much build up, so of course he抎 gotten confused. That抯 the only reason he thought he wanted to come back. Watching you come on his lap probably forced reality back into his brain and now he抯 going to want some space. You抮e no seductress, Farley Jones. That抯 probably the impression you could pull off the least. You have farted in front of this man梐n accident, but still. Not a lady toot, either, it was a 揵russel sprouts are my food hyper-fixation at the moment?kind of rip. You are gross. Remember what your father always told you? Men don抰 want girls with foul mouths and bad manners. It抯 unbecoming. Men don抰 find your cavalier attitude attractive, let alone sexy. Men don抰 want a dirty, unorganized woman. Men don抰 want a woman who wants to be lazy for an entire day, then immediately wants to take on twelve projects, plus a hike and a new hobby on the following.
Men don抰 want a woman who spends a day in bed after having her soul ripped out by a book, or who gets choked up over a song. Stop being so dramatic. Men don抰 want women who fill every silence with a joke or a 搘elp?just because they can抰 sit still or quiet for five minutes with people they can barely tolerate.
Meyer has been subjected to all of that, every side of the warped bouncy ball that I am. More than I抳e allowed any other man, really. And even to those other men who I抳e dated?the ones who抳e seen the bits and pieces?to them I抳e always been charming in my quirkiness, in my crassness. I抦 a good times gal, the friend, the jester. Not the kind of woman they fantasize about, who gets under their skin.
How could I expect his feelings to be like mine? I can抰 expect that of him. I need to give him space, to respect it when he inevitably tells me he抯 changed his mind about this and that it抯 gotten out of hand. This is why I had reservations.
Look at yourself! This man is doing this for your career, and yesterday only happened because there抯 been too much mixing. Maybe it was the football. The collective competitive energy caused a surge in testosterone and you happened to be there, clinging to him.
It抯 pathetic, really, how my brain jumped through portals and to a different reality, where we抎 both be desperate for each other.
Even if this was going places, who wants this messy girl? The one who already needs constant reassurance. Who collapses this way in a matter of hours. Meyer deserves someone stable, someone who is funny but not in an attention-seeking way. Someone who doesn抰 accidentally fart in front of him or verbalize her gastric woes. Someone sexy, organized, and secure.
The plane lands, though I抳e no memory of getting on it. I pull out my phone with trembling hands while I wait for my luggage, and check my calendar, grateful when I see that my therapy appointment is tomorrow.
I抦 so angry at myself for letting those thoughts take over, so shaken up at the mental whipping for which only I am to blame, that it takes me a minute to register the hand on my wrist.
When I look down to Hazel抯 face, and spot Meyer following behind, I collapse onto my knees and hug her. My people. My girl, whether or not I get my wish where Meyer is concerned.
I pull away, crying. Hazel抯 frightened face is comical. 揊ee, I saw you two days ago.?
揑 know. I was listening to sad stuff again.?Not exactly a lie. 揥hat are you guys doing here??I swipe at my eyes, shift my gaze over to Meyer, his expression agitated. I wonder if he wants to go to me even half as badly as I want to go to him.
He braces his stance and starts signing rapidly. 揑 fell asleep when I got home and forgot to plug in my phone. Alarm never went off, then, and when I woke up it was time to grab Hazel, since I gave Marissa a couple days off. So I flew out the door to get her and then I棓 he corrects himself when Hazel smacks him 搘e wanted to pick you up. I didn抰 have time to get back to the house for my phone and get here to grab you.?Then, out loud, 揑 hope this is okay? Is it too much? I抦 not smothering you am I??He scratches the back of his neck and an impossibly large bicep rolls.
I swallow the lump in my throat, laugh a short, hysterical little sound, but manage to shake my head. 揘ot too much. Believe me, I am too much.?He looks a bit confused, but accepts it for the time being.
揇o you want to get pizza with us??he asks, then.
Hazel slap his leg. 揑 can抰 read lips!?
揇o you want to get pizza with us??he signs, correcting himself again.
揌e says he抣l take us to the place with the dance game.?Hazel adds, as if I needed to be pitched.
揙nly if you get him to do it.?
揇eal,?he agrees with a smile.
And that抯 what it takes to get my mind calm梐lbeit not quite fully right. To make me feel warm and soft with gratitude. It takes terrible arcade pizza and the sight of Meyer抯 too-big body trying to keep time with the rapid dance moves on the game, both of their faces scrunched in laughter among the neon lights. And it抯 not just because we found the laugh, either. It抯 because their love holds me up.
I recognize that Dr. Deb and I need to continue patching up my mental umbrella, so that love and confidence comes from within, so that I can protect myself from the thoughts that want to surge and drown me.
But these are my puddle people, the ones who will go splash around with me, when I can抰。
When he takes me home after, I know I need to talk to him about my mental tailspin. The anxiety battles with just wanting to be, though. Just wanting to move on to this next good part, whatever that may be. But, he can feel my hesitation, I know he can. I catch a furrowed, concerned look lingering on his face and I know he抯 onto me. How I抦 on the verge of saying something but can抰 seem to spit it out. He walks me to my door, as Hazel sleeps soundly in the car.
When we step around the corner to my little alcove, I feel the unease creep into every muscle fiber in my body. I feel him looking at me, but I stare at my toes, an utter coward.
揊ee,?he sighs. 揥hat抯 going on? What is it? Why were you crying earlier??
揗eyer.?I finally look up at him and the sight of his face, in its chiseled and rumpled perfection, the wrinkle between his eyebrows that never smoothes away anymore, even when he抯 relaxed. It抯 my own private billboard that states:You抮e safe.
So, I decide to try my best to be open again, to remember to trust my friend and myself. 揑 self-induced a meltdown earlier. About us. About this. I know… I know you came back to the hotel, and I know that you said wanted me, too. But then I had myself completely convinced when I couldn抰 get a hold of you that you regretted it, that you were going to pull back. I mean, I went down a truly crazy spiral there, it was not sane?and, I抦 not trying to fish here, but I reminded myself the entire plane ride home how impossible it is that you could want me as much as I want you.?
He inhales sharply, brows nearly touching before smoothing into a smile. If it was an art piece it would be called: Tentative Relief. 揊ee, I only didn抰 push a bigger conversation yesterday because I didn抰 want to distract or take away more from this time for you. I didn抰 want you to be tempted to miss out on any time with Kara or Shauna, either. And then we were literally out of time, last night and again this morning. Honestly, when you seemed fine afterwards it made me think that you weren抰 as?affected as I am. I think the only reason I didn抰 have a similar spiral is because I didn抰 have the same amount of lucid time to let myself after the whole phone mishap.?A hollow laugh fans out of him. 揗y time between getting Haze and driving to the airport was enough, though.?He inhales when he registers my returning smile. 揃ut now I gotta know梬hat would make you say that? About me wanting you as much as you want me? How could you think that, now??He runs a knuckle down my cheek and I lean into it.