pictures or movies. She transferred her love of the ocean to me. When the ocean isn’t available, the Hudson River is my substitute.
It’s a gorgeous day. I usually sleep in on weekends, but when the weather is this spectacular, I enjoy getting up early for a run. I can always relax later in a bubble bath before possibly taking an afternoon nap. That’s the beauty of the weekend.
I love my job, but I love weekends more. While dating Peter, I sometimes felt suffocated on weekends. We would see each other a few nights after work and have dinner, even occasionally staying at each other’s apartments overnight. I enjoyed those times, and it was just enough. On the weekends, he often wanted to spend every waking moment together. My first red flag was when I tried to negotiate one weekend apart a month. He didn’t understand my need to have time alone. He argued that already happened during the workweek. My need for distance hurt his feelings. Feeling guilty, I gave up my request just to make him happy.
Since his departure, I have enjoyed my weekends as if they’ve been a precious gift. In such a short amount of time, I’ve seen every inch of this city from the top to bottom on my own. Last summer, Andrea and Rob had Peter and me over to their place on the beach a few times. Peter and Rob had nothing in common. It was awkward.
This year I told Andrea once the weather changes I’ll be there often. Their place is a serene haven that sits so close to the city, yet far enough away to provide solitude and peace. Since I adore the beach, having best friends with an apartment sitting on one should count for something.
Wait, that is unless he’s there.
Damn it. Now every time I think of my best friends, I can’t help but to think about him. I don’t even like him. I find him arrogant and conceited. It’s most definitely a physical thing. He’s exactly my type. He’s tall, dark, and handsome. The combination of his eye candy looks and my unfortunate state of horniness is not good, at all.
I try to focus on my run, staring out at the sun shimmering off the ripples in the river to draw some calm into my chest. I try to listen to my music as it fills my ears with the familiar lyrics I love so much, hoping they will distract me. I even try to channel my frustration by punishingly pounding the pavement, running faster than my normal pace. Nothing works in removing Ben’s face from my thoughts or the unexplainable desire that settled in my core.
When I feel like I’m about to pass out, I slow to a jog and then finally stop, bent over and panting heavily. Other joggers run around me, making me aware that I am inconsiderately blocking the jogging path. I slowly move toward the nearest park bench and sit heavily, wondering how I’m going to stop thinking about a man I clearly can’t stand.
Nat called me last night as I was on my way home from The Grind. I wasn’t in the mood to play nice, in spite of the fact it’s been days since I’ve had sex. I’ve been avoiding her. It was time to put an end to whatever this was that we were doing. My admission to Rob wasn’t an excuse to get out of being set up. I need to stay focused, and the opposite sex would be a major distraction, right now. Whether it’s Nat or Ella, or anyone else that Andrea pulls out of the woodwork. So I agreed to see Nat with the intent of ending it once and for all. By the time I got home, she was already waiting for me, sitting on my front stoop.
On our way up to my apartment, I had gotten the text from Andrea. It may have been shitty of me, but I decided to call Ella while Nat sat on my couch. Selfishly, I thought it could initiate a conversation that needed to be had. I was right. The minute I hung up the call, Nat pounced.
“Who the hell is Ella?”
Her question pissed me off. I owed her no explanation. Just because she decided to change the dynamics of our relationship didn’t mean I needed to suddenly agree.
Ignoring her question, I
It’s a gorgeous day. I usually sleep in on weekends, but when the weather is this spectacular, I enjoy getting up early for a run. I can always relax later in a bubble bath before possibly taking an afternoon nap. That’s the beauty of the weekend.
I love my job, but I love weekends more. While dating Peter, I sometimes felt suffocated on weekends. We would see each other a few nights after work and have dinner, even occasionally staying at each other’s apartments overnight. I enjoyed those times, and it was just enough. On the weekends, he often wanted to spend every waking moment together. My first red flag was when I tried to negotiate one weekend apart a month. He didn’t understand my need to have time alone. He argued that already happened during the workweek. My need for distance hurt his feelings. Feeling guilty, I gave up my request just to make him happy.
Since his departure, I have enjoyed my weekends as if they’ve been a precious gift. In such a short amount of time, I’ve seen every inch of this city from the top to bottom on my own. Last summer, Andrea and Rob had Peter and me over to their place on the beach a few times. Peter and Rob had nothing in common. It was awkward.
This year I told Andrea once the weather changes I’ll be there often. Their place is a serene haven that sits so close to the city, yet far enough away to provide solitude and peace. Since I adore the beach, having best friends with an apartment sitting on one should count for something.
Wait, that is unless he’s there.
Damn it. Now every time I think of my best friends, I can’t help but to think about him. I don’t even like him. I find him arrogant and conceited. It’s most definitely a physical thing. He’s exactly my type. He’s tall, dark, and handsome. The combination of his eye candy looks and my unfortunate state of horniness is not good, at all.
I try to focus on my run, staring out at the sun shimmering off the ripples in the river to draw some calm into my chest. I try to listen to my music as it fills my ears with the familiar lyrics I love so much, hoping they will distract me. I even try to channel my frustration by punishingly pounding the pavement, running faster than my normal pace. Nothing works in removing Ben’s face from my thoughts or the unexplainable desire that settled in my core.
When I feel like I’m about to pass out, I slow to a jog and then finally stop, bent over and panting heavily. Other joggers run around me, making me aware that I am inconsiderately blocking the jogging path. I slowly move toward the nearest park bench and sit heavily, wondering how I’m going to stop thinking about a man I clearly can’t stand.
Nat called me last night as I was on my way home from The Grind. I wasn’t in the mood to play nice, in spite of the fact it’s been days since I’ve had sex. I’ve been avoiding her. It was time to put an end to whatever this was that we were doing. My admission to Rob wasn’t an excuse to get out of being set up. I need to stay focused, and the opposite sex would be a major distraction, right now. Whether it’s Nat or Ella, or anyone else that Andrea pulls out of the woodwork. So I agreed to see Nat with the intent of ending it once and for all. By the time I got home, she was already waiting for me, sitting on my front stoop.
On our way up to my apartment, I had gotten the text from Andrea. It may have been shitty of me, but I decided to call Ella while Nat sat on my couch. Selfishly, I thought it could initiate a conversation that needed to be had. I was right. The minute I hung up the call, Nat pounced.
“Who the hell is Ella?”
Her question pissed me off. I owed her no explanation. Just because she decided to change the dynamics of our relationship didn’t mean I needed to suddenly agree.
Ignoring her question, I
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