Its not fair. To me or Carter. I want to be with him so badly that it hurts. Physically, emotionally and any other way possible... I'm sure there are others. The pain is real. Not anything that is possible to dismiss, but an actual ache. In my side, in my head and in my heart.
I know, I know. Heartache isn't really a true thing. Just a myth. Especially for Abigail Lockhart. That's what I thought, too. But this man who was touching me, and kissing me only six and a half hours ago is causing that real pain. Not because he did something to me, but because he *did something to me.* He did something real to me. He did everything that every girl wants done to them.
Don't ask me what it is he did, exactly. All I know is that this man is so wonderfully brilliant that I can't understand it. He knows everything. Everything about me. I don't need someone perfect, I need Carter. No one's perfect; there's too many different opinions about the word. But John Carter is certainly something I need in my life. Perfect? I don't know.
But he's perfect for me. And my twisted being is perfect for him. We're two best friends. We both know we've secretly fallen in love with the flirtatious banter we've played. I know I have. How is it that I smile? I smile so much when I'm with him. Luka can make me laugh. But Carter is real. The man is good to me in ways that are unspeakable.
Luka is good to me, in some ways. But he's not good *for* me.
People accuse me of being selfish, but is this selfish? I have the right to choose who I want to be with, whether I end up with them or not, don't I?
All of these inquiries and disputes that torment me at night catch up with me again this night. I wrap my arms around my body and shiver. Not because its cold, though. My feelings aren't straight, they're complex. And no one knows it but me.
Me.
God, who am I? People are right. Little Abby Lockhart doesn't know who she is. What do I want? I know what I want. I want someone. I want Carter to be in my arms. I want to lie next to him, and I want to wake up next to him. I know that he'll solve everything. It sounds like a teenage classic, straight from sophomore years. But this man will fix everything. That's the way he is with me. He's the one who helps me.
I wonder if he's realized it, how much he's helped me. I don't think he has. I remember back to where I was hours ago, him with his hands on me. Touching me. I enjoyed it like no one should; I enjoyed it too much. He's so incredible to me without knowing it. He's everything without realizing.
Does he recognize just how he makes me feel? I told him, but I didn't tell him enough. I want to tell him everything and more. I need to tell him how he starts my day and ends it. He's the one I think about so often, the one that I want to tell my secrets to. I need to let him know how I feel about him.
Life's never that simple. I, of all people, should know that.
I remember growing up. I remember how it wasn't the same as it was supposed to be. My mother, my invisible father, and my helpless brother.
I almost shudder. I don't care about that right now. I won't let myself. Torture of such can be wasted away some other night. Some other night when I'm not mentally crying as it is.
I'm not crying right now. I won't allow it. But I'm crying inside. These blank walls are torn down by its own contender: me. All I want is to know what its like to be truly happy. I've had my moments where I can laugh, but there are some things that I have to have.
I wonder how conceited or selfish I sound. And feel. I don't care. Its not wrong for me to want somebody. I can want someone, and I do want this someone. If anything, its good for me. I should want to break from this barrier and climb into Carter's arms. At least, tonight I know what I want in some aspects.
Why do I feel so certain that he'd make my troubles wash away? That's the effect. The effect he has on me. No one else has ever had that power.
When I married Richard, I married him because I was young, carefree, and we were in love. Supposedly. Love is told to fade away. That's what divorces are for. And affairs or something, I guess. That's what I thought happened to Richard and I.
But I had never felt like I could be this happy if Richard was by my side. If Richard kissed me. At times, I wanted to get away from Richard. I don't know why it worked that way. I considered it a break or something. But I genuinely didn't want to be near him.
That was the descent into hell from there.
We made no effort to fix it, now that I think about it. It was obvious. We both knew it was coming. No questioning something destined to happen.
It doesn't matter now. If it was indeed destined to happen, that it was destined to happen. And that means that something else was meant to happen.
Now I'm just digging myself into a deeper whole of crap. I know myself better than that. I'm trying to imply that I'm supposed to be with Carter. Sly, Abby. Real sly.
But, in some ways, its not sneaky, sly, or stupid. In some ways, I still feel I'm to be with him one day. Whether its tomorrow, or in ten years, I feel like I'll always feel the same way about him.
God, why am I so lost? Its astonishing in parts. I don't understand how a thirty-five year-old woman is so confused. Still. I'm sick of having that reputation. Why don't I know any better? I'm my own person, my own adult. Things like this shouldn't be a problem anymore. Easing into comfort should be an easy responsibility. If it should even *be* a responsibility. I wish I could tuck myself into bed at night and fall asleep.
But, being me, I stare at the ceiling. I dare not cry to the odd strength of a pillow. I don't cry, I won't do it. Instead, I remain locked in my own chambers. In my own dungeon. And I'm still lost without a word to set me free. And, as figured, only another person can set me free. And that person is the person I'm not allowed to be with, for whatever reason.
And I feel I have to be with him. He does hold the key, as stupid as it may sound.
I squint and see a spider dancing on the ceiling above me. I'm scared all at once. Not scared, but a little more aware. I wonder if the insect could lower itself onto my body in this cold bed.
And suddenly I'm not afraid. Of the spider, I mean. I never was afraid. I finally realize I'm afraid in general. Why? I don't know.
I'm stuck and I want to get out. So badly. I'm sick and tired of being here. In this mess, caught between two pillars and waiting for an absolution to find me. How it will ever make its way through a blinded, narrow and dark path is beyond me. I know, whatever path it was, I wouldn't light it up any at all.
I reflect back to my thoughts of Carter. This wonderful man. I can see it in his eyes; he wants me to be happy. I know he does. He speaks to me with a smile, and he tries to help me. I'm stubborn; I tell him I don't need any help. He sees past that. He knows I need help. When I tell him that I don't need him to do things for me, he does them anyway because he cares that much.
I guess, if Luka has a fault, that's his. He doesn't recognize that he's hurting me by his 'giving me space.'
Its not his job, or anyone else's to take care of me, though. And I know that. But these two men know I can't sort things out alone sometimes. Why is it that one man takes a step further, and one man sits originally?
Luka could be any other typical person. I don't know how Carter makes a difference. I know how he does, but how does he manage? Why does he put up with me? I'm nothing special, I'm nothing but a woman. A messed up one at that. There's nothing about me that should attract a man. All I do is flirt contagiously. Like I have something to offer.
Why, if he does, does Carter want to be with me? I find myself doubting now. I don't know why I need to be with this man. How many times have I repeated myself tonight? I'm fed up with having to deal with myself.
I wish I'd known him from the beginning. I wish I knew him when he was like me. When he was confused. But, then if he had ever been in this state, how did he overcome it? How did he succeed in breaking a wall that I had so long cried behind? Why was it that some people were walking, and I was still falling?
That spider is gone. I don't care about it anymore.
Falling. That's what you are, Abby. A miserable falling soul who is tied up in the middle of nowhere. Surrounded by questions you'll never answer and plagued by arachnophobia.
If I could laugh at myself, I would. I really would. I tell myself that one day I'll laugh, and that makes healing easier. If its healing.
God.
This thought drive me insane. I'm not healing. I hurt. I am in as much heartache as a sane person is driven to in a lifetime. I'm not trying to upstage anything, but I've gone through so much. Why does it happen to me still?
Believe me: I know some people have it much worse. But I shouldn't have to. All I want is right in front of me. In fact, its been right in front of me for three years. Why can't it be as simple as it seems? Can't we just reach for each other, and take the other?
I want Carter.
Its only that simple. I need him by my side, I want him to hold. I want him to hold me and kiss me and touch me. Again. When he had done it to me, still hours ago, I was in Heaven. I want this man to do that to me for much longer. And I don't want to feel guilty. I want him to caress every inch of skin on my body and I want to enjoy it. I know I will.
I know what I want. And I've repeated it to myself for about the eighth time tonight. I need that man that kissed me. Straight from a fairytale. I need him.
But when I look up tonight in this bed, at the sleeping face above me, I realize I'm not with that man. I'm with Luka Kovac. And he's not what I want. Not at all. This still kind, in some ways, man is not what want.
I want John Carter. My best friend. I want to be choosy tonight. I want this man to be holding me. Not Luka.
Carter wants me to do something about it, he told me. What can I do? I want to be with him now, but I'm sure climbing from a window and sneaking to his apartment is right anyway. Not that I would do that. I feel guilty enough for kissing him. But it still fit so perfectly.
So I do the only thing I can think of at the moment. I look down and untangle my heavy body from Luka's warm arms. In his sleep, he groans and turns the other way. I stare at him for a while, not knowing what to make of this, or to do next even, and decide on turning away as well.
There's a new power within me, though. As soon as I leave his arms, I feel I can do anything. Or something close to it. If I couldn't wake him up and break up with him, I'd do the only other thing I could think of.
I scramble from the bed. I gather my clothes and my bag. Leaving him a note:
Luka -
I felt sick this morning. I went home. I'll see you at work.
Abby
I don't care what people think. Knowing everyone else, they'll think that I'm running away. I'm not running away. I'm taking my first step toward what I want. This is good for me.
I'm almost sure this time.
And as I make my way home, all I can think of is Carter. It doesn't surprise me. Its not anything out of the ordinary. Its something I've grown used to. If only he knew how much I felt for him.
