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My Realistic Fantasy
F*** my life, f*** my life, I repeated to myself as I attempted to re-adjust my sloppy ponytail. There was no damn point in looking cute anymore. Monday nights have always been about “all work and no play”, and my wardrobe transpired to comfortable sweats and a yellow, baggy shirt.
What f***ing ever. It’s not like anyone’s trying to pay attention to me anyways. I shake those depressing thoughts from my head as I turn the faucet on and wash my hands. Once the last glob of soap was cleansed from my skinny fingers, I switch the faucet off.
I adverted my attention to the girl staring back at me in the bathroom mirror’s reflexion. I c*** one eyebrow and just stare at myself. The t-shirt i was wearing was two sizes too big, and it made my size D boobs look funny and abnormal. Every now and then my humungo shirt would rise due to any random movement, which caused my bellybutton to show. Muffintop. My thoughts continued to flow like water.
My brown hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail that freely swayed when I turned my head. My facial features were timid, but unique. Brown almond shaped eyes, long perky nose, petite lips, high cheekbones. A tiny birthmark rested atop my right eye brow. I sucked in my breath and flicked the bathroom light off. There really wasn’t any point in trying anymore.
I make my way past the living room. Every damn step I took, my heartbeat quickened. Sitting on the couch closest to the door was Jonathan. No one would ever guess we were once in love. Back when days were worth looking forward to. Me and him had a love so strong that my heartbeat was the culprit of me not having a proper conversation with him. This was back when all we had was each other. Time has surely changed us both.
Jonathan chatted with his friend as they watched a football team huddle together in the end zone. He slouched with his arms sprawled out comfortably beside him. His light brown curly hair was obeyingly combed, carefully but messy all at once. His eyes wore a straight but blank stare. Then came his nose, outwardly curving in, and then out at the base. His lips were full, puffy, and oh so beautiful. He wore a black fitted t-shirt with a red arrow in the middle, followed by dark washed denim skinny jeans. My heartbeat multiplied tenfold as I jostled my way past him.
My mind was in a frenzy, flickering with flashbacks of me and him, cuddled up together while he lightly whispered in my ear.
“Andrea you own my heart. Remember that, okay?”
“Okay. And you’ll always have mine.”
“I love you.”
“I love you mo--”
“Hey Andrea.” Jonathan’s mellow, sexy voice interrupts my flashback.
“Hey Jon Jon.”
I continued to hustle, forcing my legs to work like a damn robot. So help me God, I thought out loud. As soon as I made it into the kitchen, I could feel myself finally exhale. Jonathan’s presence somehow causes an interruption with my f***ing breathing. My mom was busy chopping up onions, potatoes, and red peppers, but stopped abruptly as soon as I rushed into the kitchen. She stares at me as if I had just plucked my damn eye out and gobbled it down.
“What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing, Mother.” I shake my head. Her pretty face goes from relaxed to perplexed as she gives me an I-know-what’s-going-on look.
“Mmmm hmmm. Come help me cut this up.” I take a place beside my mom and began carefully chopping the onions into little pieces. I don’t f*** around with onions, but chopping them was wayy better than to be in that living room; Facing Jonathan. I chopped and chopped until little pieces were nothing but a field of onion paste. My mind drifted off once again, floating through many flashbacks of me and Jonathan. My mind stopped at one in particular; the one where we were intertwined on his bed, snuggling.
I looked up at him to find his eyes slightly closed. I tangled my tiny fingers with his hair, feeling my heart’s beating intensify. God, I loved his hair. I nestle my nose in the base of his neck, taking whiffs of his sweet, entrancing cologne. Meanwhile, his arms wrap around my waist, forever guarding me from any monsters and demons the cruel world brought. My free hand slides under his shirt and traces a line all the way past his lower abdominals…
“ANDREA!” My mom’s tone of voice booms and rattles my bones. “What the hell are you doing? Pay attention!” She points down at my hands. Instead of the knife piercing the already chopped onion, it was only centimeters away from slicing the bare flesh of my index finger. I stare back at my mother, completely dumbfounded.
“Ugh. Go find something else to do. You’re done here.” Without a word, I turn around and slink off, heading straight to my room. I close the door and sit on the edge of my twin sized bed. After minutes passing, I had a sudden urge to change my sweats. Today was a bummy day, so a change in wardrobe would hopefully improve my mood. Hopefully.
I rummage through my pile of clothes searching for a better fitting sweatpants. After a desperate rampage, I settled on gray yoga pants that had “Juicy” sewn on the ass. I slipped them on and forced my big ass bag of clean clothes back into my closet.
Once again, I make my way back through the living room. This time as I passed Jonathan on the couch, his eyes quickly cling to mine. I adverted my gaze to the t.v., pretending to be interested in what was showing on the screen. My ears started to burn and my tongue became unbearably thick.
As I walked, my mind went on another flickering spree. I was too caught up in my own fantasy that I didn’t notice our family’s golden Christmas tree. I ran right smack into it, causing one of the delicate glass ornaments to sway until it unhooked from its branch and crashed onto the kitchen’s doorway with a loud clink. Mother-f***.
My mother gave me the most irritated, deadliest stare I had ever seen her make. I shoot her an I-got-this look and scramble to my knees. “Be careful Andrea. You can cut yourself if you pick them up too fast.” Ignoring my mother’s warning, I ignorantly gathered the broken shards.
“She’s right. You can hurt yourself.” I froze in my tracks. That mellow tone of voice was definitely not my mom’s. I look up to find Jonathan, grinning at me with his you-can’t-resist-me-smile. My insides began churning into Jell-O. He steps over me and open the fridge, peeking inside. “I’m fine. I know what I’m doing.” I say bitterly; but bitterly sweet. I force my fingers to work even though my whole body was over-radiating from his presence. He takes a swig from a water bottle and peers down at me again with those sparkling brown eyes.
“Yes! Now can you go somewhere? You’re distracting m--OWW!” I raise my right hand to find a trickle of blood forming on my thumb.
F***. My. Life.
My mom shakes her head at me as she exits the kitchen. “I told your ass so.” I sit there, feeling stupid. Jonathan sets his water bottle on the edge of the table and kneels down beside me, only a couple inches away from my face.
“I also told you so. I bet you won’t even be able to get the glass outta’ your finger.”
“Then YOU f***ing do it!!” I yelped. I had to get away from this guy. The nonchalant tone in his voice was making me perspire in places too inappropriate to describe.
He sits me in a chair and pulls himself one up, too. “You need to be still. If you move the glass will lodge itself more deeply into your skin.” At this point I didn’t give a f*** if he was chopping my finger off with a butter knife. I just wanted to be close to him. Touching him. Smelling his sweet, pungent cologne. As he worked on getting the piece of glass out from my thumb, I stared directly at him like an idiot in a damn trance. A love trance. My eyes traced his face starting from his eyes, all the way to his rather large, full lips. Those lips that kissed me with such passion and momentum once upon a time.
Something in me snapped. I wanted this guy all for my damn self, and I didn’t give a f*** about his girlfriend, and whether she’d be mad at the fact that his ex kissed him. Again. Jonathan continued to pluck the piece of glass out from my thumb. His movements were forceful, but steady and the tweezer’s force caused my thumb to sting with pain. But I didn’t mind. The sudden rush of resurfaced feelings were much more intense than the stinging.
“Finally got it out.” He held the tweezers in front of my eyes, and I noticed the difficult f***er held between the tweezers tongs. I could feel Jonathan’s eyes resting on mine and I couldn’t help but return the gaze. “Thanks,” I say softly, “I would give you a kiss on the cheek but…” I rose from the chair and began to turn around--but a delicate, warm hand caught hold of my arm.
“No it’s okay. One little peck on the cheek won’t hurt.” I spun around and looked directly into his vulnerable, chocolate eyes. He was then grasping my shoulders, holding on as if he wanted me to fall into his embrace. I tried to search for any sign of him bullshitting me from his glare, but his expression told me he meant business.
I gently removed his hands from my shoulders and entangle my fingers with his. Leaning forward, I cup his chin with my right hand and press my lips on his cheek with everything I had to offer. It was like I wanted to transfer every last drop of my love into one little kiss. He returned the favor by inching closer and closer into me until his lips rested in the smooth base of my neck.
The softness of Jonathan’s lips sparked an electric current which shot through my whole body. Goosebumps appeared from my neck all the way down to my inner thighs. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. Jonathan wrapped his arms around my lower waist while mines rested in the middle of his back. He backed up upon the kitchen’s countertop with me following his lead. We both held onto each other like this was the only chance we had.
Jonathan’s breath hitched as I gazed upon his beautiful, inviting lips. Our breathing mingled in unison as we leaned in closer and closer. I closed my eyes slowly as the time stopped and the world halted. There was nothing more I desired than to enter the euphoria of feeling his velvety, soft tongue dancing with mine…
“Wait. I can’t do this.” He whispers against my lips. His grip loosens around my waist. We both got too caught up in the moment to notice our heartbeats making an ensemble. I couldn’t find the strength in me to meet his gaze, so I directed my attention to my cut.
“I’m sorry.” Jonathan whispers so low it must’ve been his thoughts. I stayed silent and continued to stare down at my thumb. We both stood in the middle of the kitchen like idiots who had no clue what the hell they’ve gotten themselves into. After blankly standing there, he turned on his heel and excused himself from the kitchen.
Only I remained. Dumbfounded and aroused from what just happened. My hand wouldn’t even stop twitching as my fingers brushed against the spot on my neck where he had kissed me so passionately.
The sound of birds chirping sharpened my awareness. My eyes pry open as my sight goes from blurry to clear. I soon lay wide awake in my bed, a hundred million images flash through my mind like wildfire. I sit up in bed and look around the room.
A dresser. The clock. 10:45 a.m. on the dot.
I hug myself under my covers and try to maintain a positive train of thought. But, in the end, I just end up shaking my head in anger.
I had just experienced another Realistic Fantasy.