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But I just keep getting hurt.
And that's why I'm the way I am now.
That's why I can't let myself ever forget it's okay to be just okay, and Aidan...
I can't let him change me. Can't let him make me greedy and forget everything I've learned.
Aidan is everything that's beyond okay...and that's why I can't have him.
I THROW MYSELF INTOwork the moment I get back home. I say yes even to gigs that I normally decline. Hold livestreams when I can't sleep. Start a new gratitude journal just so I can remember the most important thing.
It's okay to just be okay.
Jack's been calling me every day, and though he always says at the end he's willing to wait, I know I'm only delaying the inevitable. I need to see him sooner or later, and when we do meet, I know what Imustsay.
I know what Imustfeel.
But God...
I still miss him.
I miss him so damn much.
And I don't understand why.
The actual hours Aidan and I have spent in each other's company aren't even enough to count as an entire day. The time we had is so short, I should only be remembering his name and nothing else. But instead I remember everything.
I remember the soulful darkness of his gaze and the way his face softens every time he sees me. Most of all, I remember how Aidan makes me feel every time he looks at me, and it's a feeling that no one else has made me feel.
When Aidan looks at me...I feel I don't need to pretend I'm okay with just okay.
When he looks at me, it's as if I'm back to my old self.
Unbelievably foolish. Impossibly reckless. And most of all...a girl who believes that magic exists.
AN ENTIRE WEEK HASpassed, and life has never been busier or crazier. Nearly every moment is spent in other people's company. And yet...I can't remember ever feeling this sad. Can't remember feeling so alone that I feel like I'm about to implode.
I finally succumbed to the temptation of looking Aidan up online last night, but this only made things worse. Since Aidan had never asked for my number, I had been too proud to ask for his. And besides, in the back of my mind, I had always thought I could look him up online. I always thought I had that to fall back on, but I was wrong.
Aidan might as well be a ghost with how little there is about him on the Internet. I think I'm even doing ghosts a disservice here. Even cursed dolls likeChucky and Annabelle have their own Instagram accounts, while Aidan doesn't even have a profile in LinkedIn. He's a freaking police chief of an entire town. Shouldn’t the U.S. government require all men in uniform to have Facebook accounts or anything? Police officers are supposed to be the first to respond to emergencies, but how can we even ask for help when even their work email isn't set to public?
I mean, sure there isthatwebsite of the Hartland Police Department, and itdoeshave a phone number listed. But wouldn't it smack of desperation if I called him at his workplace? That's how most horror stories about clingy girlfriends typically begin, and I'm not even his girlfriend to start with. I don't think I even qualify as a fling or...whoa.
I've just made it to the tenants-only gym at my apartment building, and the first thing I see is little Nala executing a perfectpinchayoga pose while right beside her is Mairi, who's currently struggling to get her butt up for a simple downward facing dog pose.
Distraction,I think right away, and I quickly unroll my yoga mat next to the mother-and-daughter tandem. I tuck my legs under me and make myself comfortable while the six-year-old girl plays the patient yoga instructor to her mom.
"You can do it, Mama. Just a little..."
PLOP!
Mairi loses her balance, and both Nala and I wince as her mother collapses on the mat in an awkward tangle of limbs.
"I'm okay," Mairi says quickly.
"Um..." Mairi glares at me, and that's when I see Nala doing her best not to cry as the little girl rushes to her mom's side.
"Are you really okay?" Nala's big dark eyes are swimming with unshed tears.