love came calling, twice // olly murs

17.

Since Tom had been revealed to be a lying, cheating scum-bag, Amelia had been developing lists of things about him that had bothered her. She enjoyed lists; the columns that so neatly explained A and B and C. The things that allowed her to figure out what needed to be done and what had been done. The things that listed pros and cons about decisions. The things that gave her order.

So she began categorizing at first. Into small things, like bad habits and movie choices. She moved onto medium things, like work ethic and finances. Then to the bigger things, like kids and her friends. Somehow, though, she found her lists got scrambled. Everything was in one giant lump that declared that he had been all wrong for her. That he hadn't been the one that she was meant to be with. While this made losing him easier, it also made her wary.

How long could she wait around for the one she was supposed to be with?

So instead of musing about it, she created one giant list in her brain with a title underlined and bolded reading 'Things I Hated'. Periodically, she went through them.

Tom didn't like kids, that was the one that bothered her the most. She loved kids, she wanted kids and while she assumed that one day he would, too, a part of her had always worried that she wouldn't be able to convince him. He liked country music, something she was not all too fond of. He wouldn't let her eat in the car. He never wore a shirt to bed, even in the winter. He'd leave the cupboard doors open. He hated house work. He hated Kate Gosselin.

His job came first, his favourite movie was 'Matchstick Men' and he refused to drink coffee. He was a wimp when it came to exercise, didn't really get along with her mother and used far too much expensive cologne. He hated Harry Potter, loved Tim Burton movies and hated late fees. He hated lists and schedules and save the dates.

He didn't like when she tried to do more than smoochie his cheek in public. He hated when she couldn't decide on what to wear. He hated when she'd spend the entire weekend gardening, just because she could. He hated her inexplicable addiction to earrings. He hated when he'd find her hair in his brush. He hated when she ran her hands through his hair, messing it up. He hated when she wore eyeliner. When he was stressed, he'd chain smoke and when he was drunk, he'd cry.

The lists of what he liked and didn't like about her and what she realized she couldn't stand about him went on and on. She was discovering, that in actuality, there wasn't much she liked about him deep down. This also worried her. Her ability to see through others certainly wasn't strong and she was very certain she'd have to smoochie many more frogs if she ever wanted to find her prince. More than that, however, it scared her that she had been so prepared to marry someone who she was quickly discovering she didn't really like.

And suddenly, she found herself making new lists. In the week since their trip to the craft store, Amelia had discovered infinite things about Olly Murs, her dead fiancee's old best friend. The one she had fought with about everything for the last three years. The one she was slowly trying to make amends with. The things she discovered were all things she hadn't even fathomed.

Olly wasn't arrogant. He was merely confident, strong in his arguments and passionate about what he was doing, defending. He was artistic beyond belief, the beauty he captured in his photographs breath-taking. He was very articulate, careful with how he worded each sentence and hoping that he got his point across each time. He was quick-witted, taking any good natured jabs she had thrown at him and hitting her back twice as hard. He was a kid at heart, his favourite superhero was Spiderman.

He had a fondness for plaid, v-neck t-shirts and his grey trilby. He loved children and taught them photography. He actually preferred his eggs sunny-side up, but Amelia's scrambled ones had been so good, he was considering changing his mind. His music taste was almost identical to hers and his car was a mess. He had a wonderful laugh. He was hoping, in a year or two, to have saved enough to invest in his own business, his own real studio. He was ambitious, he was charming and he was good.

And he blushed like a teenager..

Growing closer to Olly had done something to her. When she woke that Saturday morning, she was calm, peaceful and content and for the first time in the last six months, her first thought wasn't of Tom. It was of Olly.

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