23
ARIELLA
It was a freaky feeling, looking down upon myself like a TV character I couldn’t control. I recognized how my character’s behavior should have been different, but she kept staring at her own hands, crying, lying in bed unable to get up—essentially doing all the wrong things for the scene. I had absolutely no control over the show I was watching, and unfortunately, it was no dress rehearsal.
It was my actual life.
Eric was patient. He didn’t push me. Somewhere buried deep below the emotional numbness weighing down my arms, shoulders, and spine, I remembered what it was like to be with him.
The excitement that once zinged through my body every time I looked at him was farther away than the bottom of a deep ocean trench in the Pacific, the pressure a thousand pounds greater th
