Lost In Our Desires

Forgotten

Him.

I still don't know what kept me from speaking to her all that time but it was the thought of losing her that brought me back.

It's funny. It was that thought that brought me closer to her. But now here I am, stuck again, fighting against myself. Not speaking to her, ignoring her, forgetting her. The one thing that always brought me back I had to let go.

Losing her like this was better for her. It was better that I feel the real pain than have her feel it. It all depends on how you lose someone that affects you. I'd rather her hate me and lose me than to love me and lose me.

I knew she did now because she stopped knocking at my front door every day. I couldn't help but feeling a little disappointed. Her coming every day to talk to me was a way to hold on, still having something of her to look forward to everyday. Soon after, each day was another day that got easier. Then it felt like nothing at all. That sounds awful but to be honest, not feeling sometimes is better than to feel.

School started again and without thinking it through I went, I saw, I remembered, I felt. Seeing her again was like taking my heart and using it as a baseball. I pitched it right to her and she cracked it with the baseball bat, sending it outside the park.

My anxiety amplified to a constant screaming in my ears telling me to go to her but I knew I couldn't. I was so scared that she'd come up to me. What would I have done? I would've had a meltdown right there in front of everyone. I decided my best option was to Cyber School. It's been getting worse anyways; the difficulty in thinking and understanding, my problems with coordination, the fidgeting, the weight loss, my depression, hallucinations, paranoia, the anxiety, my temper, all of it. I knew sooner or later I'd have to stop coming to school so why not get a head start. I know it's crazy to stop going to school because of some girl but she wasn't just some girl. She was my girl. It's crazy what people would do for someone or something they love.

But now I'm okay again. I'm not good. I'm not terrible. I'm just okay.

Her.

Eventually I stopped trying to get Dylan to open back up to me. Dylan was the guy you described as 'mysterious' because he never spoke what he thought and he definitely never talked about his past. The only way you could be friends with Dylan is if you were patient. First you have to sit and let the paint dry and settle. Then later on, when it was worn out, you try and scrape away, one chipped piece at a time. I was that person. I was the one who sat and waited for him to be ready. Ready to tell me why he was the way he was; quiet, soft spoken, on edge, distant, alone. Finally he was. One day four years ago, he was all smiles and laughs but later that night he crawled in my window and into my bed and just cried, letting everything out that he was keeping inside. He was an accident. Unwanted, raised by people who never cared. All but one. Her name was Rose but he called her mum-mum. The way he described her made her seem like an amazing women. She was his grandmother. He said that if it wasn't for her, he probably would have given up by now. She was full of hope, hope in him. She died when he was ten, two years before he moved here. He said she had what's called Huntington's Disease. It results in progressive movement, thinking, and psychiatric symptoms. He said she became delusional, had memory loss. She came at him one night with her cane saying you killed him! It was your fault! His grandpa died in a car accident and she thought he was the person responsible. Of course he wasn't since he was only four when it had happened. She became fidgety. She was always uneasy thinking something terrible was always about to happen. She grew depressed, always crying at night when she though he wasn't awake. She'd hallucinate and think her husband had finally come home to her. She lost a lot of weight. Her mood swings and temper he said was the worst. He didn't get into that. But she was always the nice, caring women full of hope except this monster crawled inside her making her sick. He said that they said she died from the fall down her steps because of her lack of coordination, another symptom, but he knew what really happened. He said that it wasn't an accident. She wanted to die. She thought that if her husband didn't deserve to live than neither should she. She was the most important thing to him and to watch her waste away slowly was the worst thing that he has ever been through. He couldn't imagine a worse way to watch someone die. She took care of him and he returned the favor, never leaving her side till the end. Before that night, I've never seen Dylan cry. And after that night, I've never seen him cry again.

Having someone in your life as great as Dylan made it seem unfair to me that only I got to enjoy him. I did tell myself I've moved on. He was just a memory fading away. But that's just it. I lied. He was a memory fading away. But I couldn't stand to lose him or even just the idea of him. I've forgotten what he smelt like, the sound of his laugh and the way the corner of his mouth always tilted up into a smile whenever he was thinking. All of these things are things people need to cherish. Something we all can't forget, like how we can't forget about what it means to be human or what two plus two equals. Dylan needed to be remembered, not forgotten. And that's exactly what I was doing, forgetting.

The worst thing was that in me trying to forget, I got a boyfriend. His name was Nick. I met him at therapy. We never told each other why we were there. That was something we both saw fit to keep to ourselves. He didn't make me do anything I didn't want to. All he cared about was that I was happy. And I was. But when I saw Dylan at school I had to leave because it felt like I was having a panic attack. That was when I realized what I've forgotten. Nick was worried for me because I wouldn't tell him what happened. Eventually I did and he got jealous and mean and started fighting with me about how I didn't need anyone but him.

___

I stood with my back towards him as he stood behind me. His breath ran down my neck giving me chills.

"Only I can touch you." He whispered against my ear before biting softly. He ran his hands on my bare skin, exploring every inch of my body. "I bet you taste so good." He said as he began to leave trails of kisses down my neck, my shoulders, my back, and then he stopped. He sighed as he stood. It was the kind of sigh your father gives you when he is upset. He turned me towards him, forcing me to look him in the eyes. "You have to say it Jasmine." he said placing his hands on my shoulders. "Tell me now. Say it!" he said shaking me a little. "I need you to just say it baby okay?" I didn't understand why he needed me to say yes. Yes as in he could do whatever he wanted to me. Yes to me giving myself to him.

"Yes." And that was it. He had me on the bed before I could finish. He held my hands down above my head, kissing me. I tried to pull them free but he only grunted in my mouth, becoming more aggressive. He slid his tongue down my neck to my chest and stopped. He was teasing me. I bushed my body upward, telling him I need more. He let go of my hands and grabbed my chest, squeezing hard.

"You're so beautiful." He breathed as he slid further down my body. Now he was on his knees at the edge of the bed. He grabbed my legs, pulling me closer until I could feel his breath against my panties. His tongue slid against me, causing my back to arch. I still kept my hands above my head like he insisted. He pressed his lips just under my belly button as he began to slide my panties down. The further down they went, the further down he went until his bare mouth was between my thighs. He sucked softly, being gentle. Then his hand moved from my thigh and he slowly stuck a finger in, still sucking. I noticed that the louder I moaned, the more he grunted with sexual frustration sending vibrations through me. "I'm so sorry about what I said earlier baby. I know you're in pain. Let me take it away." He whispered. "It's so hard to stay mad at you. You're just a hard person to argue against."

Everything went black after that. One second I was laying there about to give myself to this amazing guy I've only been with a few weeks and the next thing I know I'm outside in a T-shirt trying to unlock my car. By now my face is covered in tears. My thoughts were screaming so loud I almost couldn't hear Nick behind me.

"Babe what's wrong? You said yes. I don't understand. I wasn't finished." He was trying to pull me towards him. Nick really was a great guy. I mean he was everything a girl could ask for; captain of the football team, over six foot tall, light brown hair to match his eyes, a blinding smile, perfect grades, extremely fit. Where could you go wrong with a guy like that? He was perfect. I mean everyone adores and admires him. Why couldn't I? His grip tightened but only for a second. There was a look in his eyes, anger maybe? I wouldn't blame him. But as soon as the emotion appeared it disappeared. His face was expressionless. He let go of me and I let go of the wall I held up in my mind.

I was okay. I was passed this. I was over him but my thoughts clouded my judgment, taking the wheel from my self-consciousness and drove me to him. You're just a hard person to argue against was the last thing Dylan said to me before everything went wrong. That's all my mind would let me think about. So that's where it took me, to where everything went wrong.