YAY! FINALLY AN UPDATE! :)
sunday, december 5, 2010
sunday, december 5, 2010
Feeling a bit of a nip of cold in the air on this early December morning, I reach my hand over to his side of the bed, and I feel nothing but cold sheets. Tossing and turning, I try to ignore the churning and twisting of my stomach, but then with a sudden and strong surge of queasiness it made me bolt to the bathroom.
Just when I think there is nothing left in my stomach to hurl, I always had to run back. Now after what felt like what could have been hours of hanging off that piece of porcelain, I am finally able to pull myself away without running right back. Since I am able to get my head out of the toilet, feeling even more exhausted now then I was when I woke up, I slowly make my way to the sink to brush my teeth and gargle with some scope to get rid of the horrid taste that is left in my mouth. I then get a glance of myself in the mirror and it’s a face I wouldn’t even want to look at. It’s a face of a liar and it’s a face full of shame.
As I grab for the glass on the counter that I’m thinking of throwing at the reflection staring back at me. I resist the urge due to the age old superstition of breaking a mirror brings on of bringing onto yourself bad luck for seven years. Although I've always been a person who doesn't really believe in those sort of things, but considering what kind of ground my relationship is on with Patrick right now, the thought of having seven years bad luck might not be something I want to chance.
Putting the glass back down onto the counter I make my out of the bathroom, grabbing my robe that's hanging off the hook on the bathroom door, remembering that Pat's dad is here, I walk into the hallway. Noticing that condo is dead silent as I continue on to make my way into the kitchen, I take a look up to the clock on the wall behind the dining table to see that Pat should be done practice, but he said that he'd go out to the airport after practice to pick up his mom.
I continue to look around through to the living to see if his father would be in the living room, perhaps reading the newspaper or maybe watching some hockey highlights on the sports channel, but there is no one here but me.
I turn back to the kitchen and grab myself a cup from the cupboard so I could pour myself some orange juice and there I find a post-it note on the cupboard door, written in Patrick’s father’s handwriting.
Something’s up with Pat.
I’m off to the airport.
I began to get this weird feeling as I sat myself down at the kitchen table with my glass of OJ. Not feeling all that hungry, I just sit there, thinking and worrying about everything that happened in the last twenty-four hours.
First Patrick and I getting into a fight yesterday morning, and I leave to go talk with Abby. Later on I come back to the condo to see that Pat’s dad is in town now, but I just head to bed. Then Pat came to be and that’s when I opened up about everything. As I continue thinking about it, it doesn't seem like all that much happened, but yet it feels as though so much has changed now.
As another wave of uneasiness hits at my stomach, I wrap my arms tight around my torso, as I do so I hear this crinkling in one of the pockets of my robe. Reaching a hand into the pocket I pull out a folded piece of paper with my real name written in big red letters.
It is the note that was left behind on my desk when the condo was broken into. I know that I should have destroyed it the moment I realized who it was from, but I knew that I had to keep it as evidence that he hasn’t given up on trying to find me. With some reluctance I open it, quickly scanning over what it says.
Feeling my heart beating so hard in my chest, it feels like I’m in that George Orwell novel, 1984. He knows so much and I don’t know how he could find it all out. I was assured over and over that he would never be able to find me. Although I know that I took a large risk of going to the game in Vancouver. Thinking back to that night I do remember that I did notice a guy that looked an awful lot like him, but I shrugged it off.
But then a flash memory of seeing another guy that also seemed to have a familiar face ran into me when I went for a bathroom break in between periods. The eyes, the smile, the sound of his voice, I could recall it.
At that mere thought it, it sent chills down my spine and I quickly threw the note onto the table in front of me. With the bright red letters facing up, staring up me in the face I realize now that I can’t stay here any longer. Even though I have again another bad feeling that I may be too late, but I just don’t want to feel responsible for getting the people I love getting hurt again. They are really the only family I have in my life now and that's why I know I have to leave it all behind.