Vibrant

Antoinette: To Love, or Not to Love

"He loves me, he loves me not..."

I stared at myself picking a daisy in my fluorescent mirror wearing my white Sheepy Fleece Pebble bathrobe. My curly sandy blonde hair fell to my breast, still was dripping as I did not do my daily dry routine. I was thinking too much about him for reasons unknown today.

Being a flower enthusiast, I keep daisies everywhere. I pick them before sunset and place them in special made vases. I keep use them as hairpins and sometimes sew them on to my clothing.

"He loves me, he loves me not..."

I paused and sat the daisy down on the bathroom counter to untie my robe. I started to check myself out in the nude; my light beige-skin could use a tan. I started to grab my petite breast. I considered getting implants, but mum would not approve. She wants me to stick to the motto that has gotten me far in my model career, "Naturally Gifted Antoinette". Natural just gets boring over time. I was always jealous of girls with natural enormous breasts because that's what Isaiah liked. Ugh.

I released my breast and picked up the daisy to continue the countdown.

"He loves me, he loves me not..."

Why did he have to cheat? On me? A faithful, graceful and beautiful woman? Now I have to defend myself against all the pervs that lurk at every camera shoot all because I am a single woman. Relatively young, small, easy prey. All he had to do was not cheat! I found aggressiveness in my voice as I kept pulling petals.

"He loves me, he loves me not..."

Was I not sexy enough? Did I bore him during intercourse? Did I not scream enough? I could have given him so much more if he would've just been patient! Was my cooking that awful? I can still remember the look of disgust on his face after he tried my heart-shaped Spinach Quiche on Valentines Day. Was it because I was a vegan since my mother never believed in eating meat?

"He loves me, he loves me not..."

Tears started to form from my sapphire blue eyes. No, the break up was not my fault. I had to do it. I could not live with myself as a woman, to know that the man that I slept with at night was also sleeping in other women's beds. My soul is just too pure! So what if Isaiah introduced me to the model industry? That was eight years ago. It has been over a year since we broke up with each other, and I can't take the suspense anymore. I want him back.

I gasp, realizing that I was about to pluck the last petal from the flower.

"He loves me..."

Could this really be so? For the last three months when I did this, I ended off with he loves me not.

Is Isaiah thinking about me?

Maybe I should call him!

I opened the door to see mother folding clothes on my bed.

"Oh hello, mum."

She looked at me, dropped the shirt she was folding and screamed, "Antoinette Ophelia Grace, for heaven's sake child cover yourself! You are naked!"

I blushed, forgetting that I did untie my bathrobe and stepped back to close the bathroom door. "Sorry," I mumbled.

And may I add I am tired of staying with my clingy mother who gives me no personal space whatsoever? "Can you at least hand me my phone?"

"To call Isaiah? I forbid it!" She then begins to ramble on what a lustrous, no good, charmer Isaiah is. As if I did not know that already. I sighed, resting my head on the light blue pastel bathroom door.

My mum is so nosy and a killjoy. I need to love again. Broken wounds can always heal. I guess I could give Isaiah a call to try to mend what he created; Heartbreak.

Like this chapter? Make sure you give it a STAR (vote)! What are your thoughts? Let me know!