Clementine had become a wild child. Born in America but raised abroad, she now had little regard for the expectations of high society. But her reckless ways eventually catch up with her when she is kicked out of college in New York City and forced t...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
48
Walking back home, she took her time to look again at the photo Zico sent. Memorizing every corner of it and seeing if there is anything new she can get from it, that would help decipher him or their relationship or how he feels about it.
How she feels about it.
She felt she needed a purge of all these wild emotions swimming inside her skull and ribcage, like little goldfish in a fishtanks.
Her first instinct was to go out and dance it off. Sweat it out.
But look where that got her.
She left the doctor's office not feeling much better. But having already had another appointment booked with him beforehand, she knew that this odd introduction they just had would continue next week and she wasn't sure she was going to have anything new to tell him.
She so missed the streets of New York. The city a playground, her feet taking her wherever she needed to. Or a taxi. But everything was so open. She missed this feeling of freedom, because all of a sudden she felt so trapped in this strange, foreign land. And now she wasn't even sure what it was she wanted.
To be with a boy that represented so well what she was not, or to go back to the way she always was.
She missed America. She missed the delusions and the dreams of that land. She missed the people and the diners and the vast, copious amounts of land (outside of New York City). By God, she even missed the cowboys that she saw when she traveled around Texas, not having seen anything like that before.
But right now she didn't have much choice.
Passing by some nice looking building, she considered for a moment =- allowing herself to have this fantasy - of what would it be like if she lived alone. Would it make sense for her to get an apartment for this short amount of time before she eventually went back to school?
But with Zico, any time - no matter how short - especially of how short, it mattered.
She brushed the thought away, thinking of all the difficulties.
She wondered why, with all the money at her dispose, she was still having so many difficulties climbing out of these pitfalls.
When she finally got home, it seemed quiet and calm to some extent, and she breathed out a little.
Never quite knowing what kind of environment to expect since the little gamily get together. But things seemed to get back to somewhat normal.
In her room, she was unpacking her bag and realized she had an old journal in there, mostly empty. And one of the things the doctor recommended she start doing was writing. He said to write anything and everything. To talk to the journal as if it was something that needed to hear what she needed to say. He said it would help her with release.
She looked at it for a moment, feeling foolish to start doing so. But at this point anything could help.
All of a sudden, she felt a sudden urge. Where she didn't have much to say at the office, she now felt a wave come over her. Like she finally had things she needed say. To herself and to whoever would listen.
In this case, the notebook.
She dropped everything, and crawled into the little sitting nook by her window. And with a view of the water, she started to write.
She did't know who she was writing too, but she felt that it mattered. It was something important. The more she thought about it, it was not something she wanted, but something she needed.
