The Art of Starting Over

Chapter 57 - Sex and Literature

Dusk is settling in slowly. Jeremy is sleeping with his head on my tummy and his arms wound tightly around my hips. His breath is hot on my belly button as it comes out from his chest. My fingers play with his hair absentmindedly as I stare blankly at the ceiling.

The room basks in a soft amber glow. It's so quiet I can hear the screams and laughter of children coming from the playground. Turning my face towards the window, my gaze falls to my orchid sitting on the ledge. I need to water it. I meant to this morning but I guess I got distracted. And I should study. I really need to study.

Madness versus truth. That's what Marisa and I were discussing in our last session. The themes of madness and truth in King Lear. I recite the quotes we went through in my head.

Thou art a soul in bliss; but I am bound upon a wheel of fire, that mine own tears do scald like molten lead.

Yes. Molten lead. That's exactly what my insides feel like.

O! Let me not be mad, not mad sweet heaven.

I breathe out, trying to release the growing panic inside me. I am not mad. This is nothing. Nothing but another distraction for me and another fling for him.

As always, it was about the sex for me and the money for her...

But this is different. I don't want his money. He doesn't need me for sex. And that, just now... The way his eyes never left mine...

Jeremy does not date girls...

We'll figure it out. We have to because I am not just a random girl he doesn't know. Right? I know him.

But it's Jeremy's voice that echoes in my head.

You have no idea who I am...

The room starts to spin. I close my eyes to stop it and turn my focus back to Shakespeare.

Time shall unfold what plaited cunning hides.

But... we've unfolded so much already.

Come not between the dragon and his wrath!

Dragons! That's exactly where I am. Right in the middle of the dragon's lair. He warned me. He told me hearts will be broken. Why didn't I listen?

If you need me to take a step back...

I breathe in and out, desperately trying to get some oxygen to my head. What would Millie say if she knew? Her voice comes to my mind instantly.

Don't be too rough on him. He's been through a lot...

But so have I and we're no better off for it. We're a complete mess! We have no idea what we're doing!

My own words come back to me with a cruel sting.

I don't care! I don't care! I don't care!

And of course, his reply is quick to follow.

You will tomorrow.

The room suddenly feels very small, the air too heavy. I've been in bed for way too long. I need to get out!

I kick the sheets off my legs and fly out into the kitchen buttoning up his shirt. I hear Jeremy's rough voice calling out for me as I grab the frying pan and dump the stale bacon and eggs into the garbage. I flick on the faucet and chuck the pan in the sink. I throw open the door to the balcony to let the stench out and the fresh air in. I pick up the stray pieces of toast from the floor, throw them away and start scrubbing the pan furiously. The grease is dry and stubborn and doesn't want to come off.