Behind the Tattoos: Uncontrollable Desires Sequel

Chapter Thirty-Five

Chapter Thirty-Five

"Do you love me?" Lucinda asks and I just stare at her, the way her red lips shape the four simple words that make my head hurt and my heart pound. Do I love her?

That question is ridiculous. What is love and do I feel it towards her? Lucinda?

Sure, she's there for me. Sure, she makes me feel good about myself. Sure, she takes care of me instead of me being the one to take care of her. Sure, she supports me and my decision. Sure, she doesn't stop me from getting tattoos or drinking or even cutting. In fact, she said she wouldn't ever change an aspect of me as long as I was happy with the person I was becoming.

But who am I?

Who is this curly haired, green eyed boy with cuts on his arms? Who is this boy with a broken heart that keeps looking for tape to hold it together? Who am I and what the hell am I doing here?

"I...," I trail off, not knowing how to answer Lucinda's question. Do I love her? Such a trivial question, so impossible to answer...so ridiculous to think about. I bend my head and stare at the floor. "I need to take a walk."

"A walk?" Lucinda spits back, her words not kind in any way at all. "Why do you need to take a walk?"

"I just need a little to clear my head. I'll be back before the plane starts boarding," I mutter and get up, not wanting to just sit beside her and listen to her condescend me. I can make decisions for myself. Lucinda fortunately keeps her mouth shut as I walk away, running my hand through my curls as I think about everything going on.

The airport is the least bit crowded that I have seen in a while. There aren't long lines at food places or even a bunch of little kids running around anxiously waiting for their plane to come so that they could head off to whatever destination their parents had planned out. I remember my first plane ride with my own mother, her hand around my small one, telling me that everything was going to be okay. The truth was that I hated planes and their loud noises. When I stepped on that plane the first time, I was shaking more than I ever had. My heart in my tiny chest felt close to exploding. Flying was the hardest part of being on a plane; knowing that your whole life was in the hands of someone behind a couple gears and wheels. It was exhilarating at the same time.

As I walk through the airport, never getting too far away from my plane's terminal, I watch the people walk past me. Couples holding hands, children holding hands, old people holding hands. Everyone just enjoying the company of someone they love.

That used to be Ashlyn and I. We would constantly be on plane rides, forced to go to another place for touring or interviews or just a simple getaway from everything going on. Our hands would constantly be linked, our eyes on each other's as we just sit and smile at one another. Our minds would be clear of everything, important or unimportant. It didn't matter because in those moments it was just us.

"Now boarding flight 113," a voice from speakers around me say in a mechanical, generic voice. I look upwards, staring at the speakers that have told me to get back to the exit terminal.

I put my hands into my pockets and sigh, part of me not wanting to go back to that terminal where Lucinda sits and probably waits to reprimand me. My fingers touch something solid and I pull out my phone, staring down at the screen of it.

I turn it on and stare at the home screen. Ashlyn and I are smiling back at me, her pink lips open in a giant smile, shock in her eyes. We hadn't taken many pictures of ourselves, but this one was candid. She didn't see it coming and when I held that phone in front of her, she giggled and started laughing and before I knew it, my finger had pressed down on my phone, taking a picture that I would want to last forever.