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Chapter 10

Talks with Maggie normally result in calming my frayed nerves and providing me with a new perspective about whatever situation I'm currently stressing over, except for this one. This talk with Maggie seemed to tighten my nerves so much that I think I just might snap. I'm going to snap and ricochet off everything around me, affecting everything that I'm near, creating a dramatic chaos in the process.

My emotions and my logical, fearful thought seems to be clashing in a way that's bound to give me whiplash sooner or later. I am fighting the intensity of my feelings, trying without success to push them down and protect my heart, but at every turn my emotions seem to continue reining victorious, proving again and again that I am falling for James Bailey whether I like it or not. I'm falling for him without knowing what we are to each other, without knowing if he wants more or even if I want more. I'm falling even though I'm terrified and believe that I really don't want to be falling.

I'm tip-toeing around the edge of the proverbial cliff, nervously chewing my fingernails and stalling, still too afraid to leap off the edge and let myself fall even though I feel gravity pulling at me because my heart is falling already.

It's an impossible feeling to be out of control of yourself and I really hate it. Really.

I hate it more than clichés.

No, that's not enough. I definitely hate it more than that.

I hate it more than sand in my vagina on the beach. Yep – that's it. That's how much I hate this. It seriously can't get any worse.

Speaking of vaginas, I'm pretty sure I am either preparing for my weekly cycle of womanly hell by "PMSing" in the most hardcore way possible, or this drama with James is causing me to be cranky.

Dramatically, like the girly-girl that I'm definitely not, I let out a long breath of air from my mouth, as the thoughts in my mind jumble together in the most confusing way. Resting my head against my steering wheel does nothing to calm my anxiety or relax my nerves either. I try taking a very long, deep breath desperate to calm myself down before I go inside. Perhaps if I can calm my rapidly firing nerves, I can making through the night without allowing myself to be triggered into another panic attack. I have a strong feeling that if I'm triggered again, James isn't going to let me get away with keeping the details about why they're happening to myself. Maggie is right, he does deserve to know my triggers, but I'm still not ready to reveal them. I need more time and the only way I'm going to succeed in getting it is to calm myself down.

Unfortunately, I can't stay in the sanctuary of my car much longer because James is expecting me. I decided to be more considerate of his feelings after learning how worried he was before, so I made sure to text him that I was staying at my Dad's for dinner but would be home afterward.

I've waited until the last possible moment to show up here and I've officially run out of time to stall. He probably knows I'm sitting here in the driveway like a loser. Now, if I can find a way to convince myself to get out the car, maybe I can figure out how to face another night of not talking about the enormous elephant in the freaking room.

Dragging my feet as I walk inside, I refuse to even look up to see if James is on the couch. Right now, I think I could really do without my body turning into a huge pile of stupid, cliché mush at the sound of his aggravatingly perfect voice.

Man, I'm really in a bad mood.

Honestly, I can't recall the last time I let my mood get sour like this. It's a good thing that a person's mood doesn't have a fragrance, because I'm sure right now mine would be the smell of lumpy milk.

The worst part of this horrid mood that I'm in is that all I want to do right now is crawl into bed with the person responsible for it and fall asleep. Another frustrating example of how out of control I am regarding my overly zealous emotions.