Something About Aaron

Chapter 2 (Almarie's POV)

When I wake up the next morning, I am frustrated and ready to go another round with my cowboy lover. When I stretch and roll over I discover I am alone. Nothing but me lies between the sheets. This, however, does not displease me. Last night was great! Despite the amount of information exchanged and the connection shared between prince charming and me, I woke up to an empty bed, no strings attached and no names exchanged. I got what I wanted last night, great, magically satisfying, s*x that seemed different and strangely intimate. So why did I feel this pang inside of my chest?

“You really have to wonder why?” snides Jack.

“No offense Jack, but your voice is not something I want to hear first thing in the morning.” I shoot back annoyed.

Actually, if I was being totally honest with myself, I knew why. The pang was one of disappointment. I was feeling a little disappointed about the fact that I had woken up completely alone, but that's what I wanted right?

“Is that really what you want dear? There is plenty of understanding, kind people out there that I am sure you could build a beautiful life with.”

“Kyle, I know you are trying to help, but what I want doesn’t matter if it risks hurting those I do, or will, love.”

“Almarie, we all know that’s the selfless excuse you use when really, you’re just scared to get burned.” Jupitar chimes in.

“Uhg! Seriously Jupe? You have to chime in too? I need y’all to just be silent.” And just like that, they were.

Normally, I would have been thrilled to be free of the awkward encounter that usually follows the morning after sleeping with someone. Yet, here I was, almost wishing I had experienced that with the man I had bedded last night. I sit up in bed to test how bad the hangover I am almost certain to have is. Excitedly, I find that I do not have one at all and get out of bed, the blankets sliding gracefully down my soft bare skin.

Opening the deep purple curtains in the bedroom to let the light in, I bask my nakedness in it for a moment before making my way towards the kitchen. I am on a mission, I have a need for coffee. The music playing in my mind begins filling every molecule of my being, pouring through me like a radio station that only I can tune into.

After starting coffee, I turn the radio on. I crank the music up loud, but keep it quiet enough that it doesn't disrupt the neighbors as I imagine I did last night during my manic high. I turn from the stereo and take a seat at my small, round, kitchen table. Resting my head in my hands, I notice a note has been left. It had been written on the back of an old envelope, waiting for me to find it. Picking it up, trying to focus my eyes that still have sleep in them, I read it.

I had a wonderful time! Sorry for not saying goodbye, I had to leave early for work. Plus you were sleeping so peacefully I didn’t have the heart to wake you. -A

Wondering what the A could stand for, I find myself daydreaming about Prince Charming again. Something about last night’s tussle left me wanting more, even after I thought I had my fill. Here I was, despite having sworn off all relationships, craving a man I didn’t even know.

“Who you also let into your home. What if he’s a serial killer who’s just claimed you as his next victim? Hope your encounter was worth the 5 minutes of fame you’ll receive on the news once your body is found.”

“Oh, can it Jack! Good Lord, what is wrong with you?”

“Other than stating facts you don’t wish to acknowledge? Nothing, I am pure perfection.”

“Enough!” I cry out, rapidly losing patients with him. Jack thinks he is just so clever and charming but is nothing more than a complete jackass.

Taking a deep breath to calm my nerves and attempt to restore my already-fried patience, I inhale the amazing aroma of coffee. Turning in that direction, I happen to notice the time. The clock on my sexy, crimson red microwave reads 11:16, giving me only fourteen minutes to catch the subway. My eyes widen and I jump up, rushing to get ready. I have got to be at the doctor’s office at least ten minutes early so that I truly am on time for my appointment.

Luckily, the trip to the subway station is only about a seven-minute slow walk that can probably be shortened to five minutes if I hurry. With that math, I have to leave by 11:24. I grab some cleanish clothes, sniffing them to be sure, before starting the shower. I jump in quickly, scorching myself with hot water before washing my hair and brushing my teeth. Once I have finished those two tasks, I hop out of the shower, dress, and rush to get a to-go cup of coffee. Quickly, I add my normal four sugars and two creamers before calling it good. I turn down the radio before gathering the coffee and keys in my hands. Happily, I make my way towards the door, grabbing the plaid, purple backpack that I use as my purse. At 11:23 the apartment door slams closed. I lock it behind me and begin making my way to the station.

Today I am getting my prescriptions refilled, which will take away my personal world, but even that can't get me down. I’ll be almost normalized with the medications. Just me inside my head (mostly) and no nightmares to taunt me whether asleep or awake. With that thought, happiness bubbles up inside my chest. I begin to dance the whole way, focused on the music in my mind, body, and soul, to the subway station, savoring the remaining time I have left to enjoy this perception of the world while I can.

As I wait for my train to arrive, I begin to feel the depression’s poisonous presence lurking in my mind, waiting for its chance to drag me down into the endless depths of darkness. I need to get my pills before it can dig its claws in, attaching its parasitic form to my soul, before gorging itself upon any, and all, happiness I may experience.

Fighting to take control, it joins forces with the anxiety building inside my chest. The platform is crowded and there are people everywhere. The anxiety takes this as an opportunity to emerge, squeezing itself around my heart while sucking the air out of my lungs. It feels as though an elephant has sat on my chest. A feeling, I am all too familiar with.

I pull my bag off my shoulders and dig around until I find the bottle containing my last pill. Quickly, I swallow it, hoping it will take effect soon. Before zipping up the bag, I pull out a manila envelope containing privileged information of all my medical records. Holding the bulky thing securely in my hands, I toss the bag back over my shoulder.

A howling whirl announces the train’s arrival as bright lights illuminate its path down the tunnel. Slowing to a screeching halt, it lets out an exasperated huff, preceding the opening of its doors. In an instant, a massive mob of passengers begins to pour out of the metal beast. The wave of people brushing past me ignites my skin, burning from their unanticipated contact. Finally, able to board the train, I claim a spot near the exit.

Anxiously, I watch out the window trying to keep my busy mind blank. It did not need any more ammunition to stir up the panic attack I was already fighting to suppress. It appears that I am successful when I see I am approaching my stop and feel that I have only just blinked. I stand up next to the doors, impatiently waiting for them to open before the transit has become still. The doors open in sync with a settling hiss. Instantly, I am off the subway, making my way through another noisy crowd.

New York was definitely not the best place for me to run away to. It was big, loud, crowded, and full of obnoxious people. While horrible for my anxiety, I could not deny its ability to easily help me disappear. I look down at the envelope for a moment, willing it to assist me in making this appointment as short as possible. The time to meet Doctor Quick is nearing fast. I need to gain control over my anxiety, have my prescriptions filled at the nearest pharmacy, and try not to think about being a ticking time bomb. If I don’t take the proper medications soon, I will most likely find myself in a full-blown psychosis.

Once the medication begins to take full effect again, my invincible self along with her little world will be nearly impossible to reach. As much as I dislike it, I need to accept it and move on. Unfortunately, acknowledging and understanding that does not make it an easy task. It weighs heavily on my mind and is a thought that I can not completely derail. No matter how hard it will be, I am aware that I need to simply get over it and kiss the addictive mania goodbye.