What if one day your so called perfect life disappeared? Everyone thinks Everleigh Andrews has it all, the perfect job, the perfect friends, the perfect boyfriend but what if things aren't always what they seem?
Everleigh Andrews doesn't know how...
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Long distance is a common theme in my life. It's also two words I've grown to have a deep disdain for. I know I agreed to do whatever it takes to have some sort of relationship with Everleigh and I meant it, I'll do whatever it takes, but I feel like I'm losing her. Against every promise I made, every attempt I've made, I'm losing her.
After spending four weeks together in LA for my break we were happier than I could have imagined. The funny thing is, we still haven't had sex and that's all down to me. I've never waited this long to have sex with someone while I'm in a relationship, but this is me being stubborn and wanting to prove some kind of point of how I can be faithful and how I'm trying to reassure her that this isn't just about sex for me. Last night as we lay in her bed, knowing our days were now limited to a few here in LA she asked me if I wasn't attracted to her. My attempt to make some sort of a grand gesture with holding out on taking things to the next level made her think I wasn't attracted to her. I failed miserably.
She leaves for New York tomorrow and I want tonight to be special. I'm making dinner for us here at my place and she's going to spend the night before I take her to the airport tomorrow evening. The gate buzzes and I know she's here. I greet her at the door, grabbing her overnight bag from her shoulder and giving her a huge hug. I was an idiot not to beg her to stay here. Why did I lie and say I was ok with her leaving LA to go find herself? I want her here with me, and I know that's selfish as fuck.
"Hi." She smiles as she tilts her head back and I bend down and peck her lips.
"Hi yourself." I smile in return, a million things running through my mind.
"Something smells delicious." She pulls away to walk further into the house. The house I want to beg her to stay in.
"We'll see." I smile in response.
She follows me into the kitchen and I pour each of us a glass of wine. I know I'm planning a romantic night and I'm ready for it, I also know I'm nervous as fuck. Who am I? I've never been this way with anyone before. She helps me set the table outside and I light a couple of candles on the table. The sun provides a beautiful backdrop as it begins it descent over the ocean in the distance. I plate our food and bring it outside, pulling her chair from the table for her and helping her slide it into place. We talk and laugh and she tells me how difficult it's been to decide on the bare minimum to pack for New York and I smile and graciously listen as she excitedly tells me about her upcoming move. The move that I'm unhappy with and convinced will mean the end of us.
She helps me clear our plates and I load them in the dishwasher and ask her if she wants to watch tv or whatever. She gives me a shrug and insists she's fine with whatever. God why am I so nervous?
"Actually, I don't want to watch tv." I walk over to her and cup her face with my hands and I lean down and kiss her. I test the waters by sliding my tongue into her mouth and she eagerly reciprocates the movement. Her arms go over my shoulders and her fingers are in my hair. There's been so many times these last four weeks that we've been so close to taking the relationship to the next level and then I get in my head and I stop myself as if my control is some badge of honor.
