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4/29/17
I HAVE RECEIVED over thirty books in the past two months from Clayton. Ranging in genres, author's, and years published. All filled with handwritten notes and highlighted passages that always connect to our relationship or our past. Connect us to each other.
Every time a book arrives my heart skips a beat with excitement for what book he has in store for me this time.
The last couple months have been filled with early mornings reading, laughter filled roommate margarita nights, and the occasional coffee with Chase. The last few months have proved that our friendship is one for the times. I'm still cautious about certain topics around him, and I know he is as well. He won't mention his brothers, and if he does he completely avoids bringing up Clayton around me.
I don't want to lie to him anymore so I have told him about Clayton sending me books. He asked what it meant, and I told him the truth. I don't know. I said there are definitely unresolved feelings between Clayton and myself, but further then that is still a mystery. Chase thanked me for telling him, but we still haven't spoken of it since.
Every single time a book shows up at my door I immediately sit down and read the novel almost as if his written and highlighted words have created a whole new book for me. A whole new story and reason behind the author's typed words. It also makes me want to reach for my phone and call or text him, but something always holds me back from pressing his name or sending that message.
It's almost as if a small piece of me is scared. And I know him sending me all these books is a solid sign he still has feelings for me, and yet he hasn't contacted me except for these books. But I also think that this is the only way he's allowing himself to interact with me for the moment. He needs time. We both need this time apart. He's been going to AA meetings and becoming the man that's been waiting to resurface since the night of Scarlett's death.
My eyes look at the shelf in my room that's about to fall with the sudden influx of books I've been receiving. But a lazy smile lifts my lips at the look of all those books gifted to me piled up on top of each other. After a long day of working on my senior thesis yesterday, I decided to dedicate today to reading Clayton's newest addition to my personal library.
But first, coffee.
The apartment is empty as Maxine is at work and Grayson is spending the weekend at home with her family in Virginia. I quickly throw on a pair of cropped leggings with my oversized Northwestern sweatshirt not caring too much about my appearance since I plan on staying at home all day and lounging on the couch and binging books.
I quickly throw my dark hair into a high pony and slide on some mud stained converse to make my way out the front door. But as soon as I swing the door open I come face to face with the one person my heart has been aching to see. The one person I spent nights of crying over until my eyes were raw and my face was patchy. The one person I had to learn might not love me back the way I love him after I almost tore his family apart.
