Incendiary

20. miles apart

Nova

"Fuck," I breathe, scrambling to find the right piece of paper within the mess on my desk. I'm running late for an important dinner, but I have multiple deadlines that hold me on a noose.

This past week, I've been living life in a rushed daze. I feel like I'm asleep all day, but every now and then, I'll wake up and feel everything hit me. I like being asleep more. I fucking love sleeping.

I should have never spent my night with him. I've learned, quite young in life, to keep my nights clean. The stars don't like it when you lace them with regrets.

But there is no regret. God, I want to regret it. I want to hate that he was so touchy, that we had genuine conversations, and that we promised to hold each other accountable for things. I can't feel anything but the excitement of being that close to someone. Almost kissing him. I'm trying to avoid getting attached but he's doing all the right things to make sure it happens. 

some part of me exists that feels sad every time I think about the fact that he's not even on the same continent as me. Maybe I miss going out for lunch close to his work building and knowing that I could run into him.

I can't explain the way that I feel his absence. I didn't even talk to him when he was here but knowing that if I wanted to, which I won't, and I couldn't, makes my stomach sink.

When I hesitate on hitting the submit button for the third time, I force myself to stop thinking at all. I hit submit and push up from the desk, feeling relief circle me. I close the computer, slip on my coat and gather my things to leave.

I walk out of the building, circling the ring that's a few sizes too big for me around my finger. The dinner I'm going to is a really big deal for me.

It gives me a chance to make connections with some of the biggest influences in my field and learn from them.

It gives me an entrance to the life I'll be living when I graduate. My hands are shaking as I hail a cab and when one finally pulls over, I slide in silently. When I make it to the dinner, I text Mae, letting her know I'm there.

She's at the front waiting for me and greets me with her powerful smile, the kind that connects her perfectly to her job.

Mae snaps me out of my head by hugging me tightly and swaying my body. "I'm so happy to see you!"

"You saw me this morning," I say over her shoulder.

"Shh," she says.

I laugh and she releases me. She studies me, not helping my nerves. Then her lips break out in another smile, "You look amazing, darling."

I tense at the last word, my heart stutters- it's so humorous. I almost considered texting him to tell him that he's traumatized me and completely ruined an innocent word. But I don't. I can't.

I want to.

I'll call him today. Put my pride away. 

Mae tells me about everyone who's coming, tells me what to say, and warns me about the amount of unnecessary testosterone that I'll have to endure. I laugh when I need to, too busy focusing on not falling into my mind.

When we make it there, Mae and I approach the table and she introduces me to everyone. 

I wish I hadn't agreed to this. Luckily, I don't have to talk much and the conversation was only passed to me for questions about how I planned to continue my future.

I felt very comfortable and welcomed. The dinner was actually very enjoyable and I could tell that nobody saw me as just an intern by the end- which was a big fear of mine.