My Mr.Big

My eyes are heavy, it’s hard to open them. They close each time I try to open them. My mouth is dry that opening it hurts. I see a fluorescent light. I hear a beeping. I try to move but my body aches. I feel a hand grab my arm, holding me down. I close my eyes again now, feeling paralyzed, scared this is a nightmare. I must have fallen asleep because I wake up again and the room is now dark. It’s a hospital room. I’ve never been here before. There’s an iv in my arm. I start to panic. How did I get here? What happened? Did I get drugged? Who brought me? Am I ok? Is something wrong? Am I sick? My eyes are pacing left and right trying to bring back memories, but my mind is blank. The door opens and bright light comes in causing me to squint my eyes . In steps James, he has a cold and bothered look. I feel relieved to know I’m not alone. “What happened?” I say quietly with pain, my throat feels like it was cut with a million knife’s. He walks over to the desk picking up a clipboard, hands it to me, and says “you need to sign this.” I’m confused, what am I signing? Is it my hospital papers? I’m frowning, but say nothing. “Sign it” he says in a demanding higher tone. I feel taken back. “What is it?” I stutter. “It’s a NDA, you can never talk about what happened tonight” he says pushing the clipboard onto me. I grab the pen and my hand is shaking. I sign without reading. He takes the papers off the clipboard, pus them in a folder and walks away. “James!” I tried to scream but my throat did not allow it. What happened tonight? “Help help!” I start screaming. A nurse comes in, checks my IV and inserts something into it, a few seconds pass, and I’m out again. I try to get up, feeling weakness in my legs, I walk gently holding onto the bed. I look around the room, looking for my belongings, my phone. I walk into the hallway and there’s a man in a suit sitting outside my room. He forcefully grabs me by the arms and hurries me back into the room. “You cannot leave” he says and presses the nurse call button. “Where’s my phone? What happened? Who are you? James! James!” I start screaming out and he places his hand over my mouth. A nurse rushes in and helps him get me back on the bed, I’m kicking, and trying to break free. Another nurse walks in and injects me. The next time I wake up I’m in my dorm. I sit up quickly, scared, looking around. My roommate is not there. How did I get here? Was it all a dream? I lift the blankets, hurry to the mirror, lifting my clothes looking for marks or bruises. There’s nothing. “Hello” I say tentatively, it sounds normal, and my throat doesn’t hurt. It was a nightmare, nothing happened. Wow that was intense, it felt so real. I grab my phone and I have a text from James: Meet me at the Lantern st Cafe today at 7pm I reply: See you there! I feel weird, slightly confused, I think but can’t think what day of the week it is. I check my phones calendar and it’s Wednesday. After class I have dinner in the dining hall and then head out to the cafe. I’m still carrying that strange feeling from the morning. I walk into the cafe and James walks to me quickly, “follow me” he says in a hushed voice. He walks towards the employee back room, and opens a door that leads to the alley. His eyes appear worried, looking all around me, “how are you?” He says with a frown. “I’m good” I say smiling, waiting for a kiss . He breathes out heavily. “Look.. I can no longer see you” he says closely to my face in a serious tone. “Why? What happened? Are you dating someone?” I asked desperately. He stays quiet, turns around, and runs his hands through his hair, and then stares out. “What is the matter with you!” I yell pushing him. He turns around quickly gripping my arms down “I can’t be seen with you anymore!” He says in a higher tone. “I need you to leave me alone!” He says. I start moving around getting out of his grip and start punching his chest, “I hate you!” I say, knowing my punches are doing nothing to him. “Why don’t you want me?” I scream out. He hushes me putting his hand over my mouth. “Something very bad happened last night, the doctors said you won’t remember, but I can’t risk this getting out, and ruining my fathers reputation. I can’t have bad press” he says. “Your father? Who’s your father? Press? What are you talking about? What happened last night?” I’m screaming again. James father was the highest donor to the University, he had an over sea business, and controlled many of the ports in New York. He is a billionaire meaning James was to, but I didn’t know any of this. Two years before.. A new era had just began for me, I was no longer a child, I had turned 18, and I would soon be on my own. I craved the freedom. I had a secure comforting upbringing. It was the summer after my senior year of high school. I spent most of my days reading under a white oak, half a mile from my house. The yard was open, unfenced, and there was a path. I often took this path through tall trees that lead to an open meadow with one giant white oak. There was something about being in nature, the sounds of birds, the hot summer air caressing my skin, and beauty in the vibrant colors. I would take my burgundy faux leather backpack with my light weight blue teal picnic blanket, my favorite grapefruit soda, and a romance novel. I would lay in the shade, time would pass, but I was lost in the book. I would enter a new world, where I felt like the main character, finding my self identified with every character. I was obsessed with love stories. They made me giddy, blush, cry, and hopeful. I hope to have a never ending love that burns with passion. I’m a happy ending kind of girl, I like to see the couple end up together. My own life hadn’t felt that way. I was never “boy crazy” I would hear the girls talk about guys in a way I didn’t understand. I don’t know if it was the guys in Asheville, but I didn’t feel the ways books made me feel. I had 2 boyfriends in the past. The first one was Pedro, he was friends with my next door neighbor. Johnny had lived next door since I can remember, his mom would bake for us, while we played in the yard. Johnnys cousin would sometimes come over for family bbqs. Pedro was a jokester, the life of the party, got along with every one. We “dated” a couple of months, mainly it was calls and texts, he lived far, we both didn’t drive at the time. Neither of us really made plans to hang out often. We were freshman in high school when we dated, going on dates meant getting a ride from a parent. I think we both felt more like friends, than anything else. Our kisses never had a spark. When he kissed me, my lips were moving, my tongue was in him, but my mind was elsewhere. It’s like my mind would take me away from the moment and I was waiting for the kiss to end. Him and his family moved away, he had tears in his eyes when he told me, I felt frozen, but not sad. We had a last date before he left. We went to our favorite dinner that night, we talked for hours, laughing and reminiscing. Our break up was that night. I didn’t feel heart broken, I didn’t miss him, and maybe that was an indicator that it was not love. Neither of us ever said words like “I love you.” After Pedro came Timothy. I was a junior in high school, Timothy was older he had graduated a year before me, I had seen him around, but we never officially met. One day he sent me a f*******: request, I accepted, and he started liking my photos. He messaged me, we talked a couple of days, and he asked me out to a movie. He made me feel nervous when we met for our first date. Based on his profile and what I had heard about him it felt like he had his life figured out. I worried about my hair, my clothes, and what I would say. I was not typically shy when meeting someone. The only other time I felt nervous about talking to someone was my college interview. I remember I flew out for that interview, I wore dress pants, and sat nervously waiting to be called back. While others went over papers, I clung to the edge of seat, observing everyone. The other applicants looked like they had practiced, would know how to answer any question, I was just hoping for the best, and winging it. As I met up with Timothy for the first time I felt unprepared again. I am tall, curvy, I have thick brown hair, freckles cover my cheeks and nose, and I have my mother’s light green eyes.I felt attractive. I liked what I saw in the mirror, but I didn’t see it as my best quality. Timothy was smart, he came from a wealthy family, and seemed to have it all planned out. He had blonde hair, ocean eyes, and talked softly. He was sweet, he planned our dates, gave me flowers for no reason, and would make me cheesy playlist. I never felt alone, he was always there for me. When I was deciding what colleges to apply to, when I had a hard day, and when I was scared or nervous he brought safety. If I called him he would drop anything to be there for me. After a year of us dating he moved out of state to attend an Ivy League. It was a plan he had made long before me, but now having me made it felt hard. He considered staying, but I encouraged him to go. At first it was fine, he came home for the holidays, his family would welcome me with open arms. The communication started to feel long and distant on my part. I didn’t want to update him on things he would not be there for, it felt without meaning. I guess I felt abandoned, even though we talked everyday. I wanted his presence, the way he wrapped me in his arms, his smooth lips. Looking back now I can see I became moody, I would start fights, and that made me more distant. One night after a particularly hard day, he called, he was cheerful, going on, and on about how amazing things were going for him. He didn’t know I was having a bad day. I listened, but felt nothing, I couldn’t feel happiness for him, I was to deep in my own mind. The next day without a thought I wrote him a message ending things. He called and I ignored all his calls. I left my phone at home that day. I never spoke to him again. I knew I didn’t have an explanation, he was a great guy. Something in me knew that I didn’t want a love at a distance. I longed for someone who would be present, who could share any moment with me, and who I could run to. Eventually the missed calls were less frequent, he sent a letter to my home, and then the calls stopped. The letter held a heavy sadness, a broken heart, I almost couldn’t read it all. I kept it at the bottom of a box full of scarfs, but I only read it once. I also still keep the gold necklace he gave me on our last Christmas together. It was a crescent moon, holding little diamonds in the inside. It looked like it was cradling tiny stars. Every time its the end of the lunar cycle and the night sky presents me with a crescent moon I think of him and hold the necklace to my chest. The time we shared will always stay in my heart as my first love and first heartbreak. I hated that he was gone. Gone from Asheville, but also gone from me. Many nights I cried myself to sleep, resisting the enormous urge to call, say I messed up. I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling in darkness, while tears rolled into my ears.