Dear Future Husband

February 11, 2019

Dear Future Husband,

I usually hate Mondays.

Mondays are the days for tests I'm not prepared for, and short naps during study hall that just make me more tired, and the everlasting reminder that this week has barely even started.

Now, I love Mondays.

Mondays are the days I get to see Grant and kick off the week by spending more time with him. He makes Mondays worth living for now.

I am living in a dream.

Seriously, how could I ever imagine this could happen? The guy I had barely talked to but always thought of started dating my sister, putting him even further out of my reach. They broke up, making him off limits. Then bam, suddenly he had noticed me. Noticing me was the first step, I didn't think I would ever get past his notice, but it's enough for me. Then he started caring, then suddenly, he was giving me rides every morning. Caring had put me at the top of the world. Now, I have a chance to return the favor, and I get to really delve into his problems and help him, pulling him even closer to me. We had officially become friends.

It's surreal to think that the guy I was so madly in love with was actually talking to me, let alone hanging out with me.

I just hope the feeling is mutual.

Anyway, other than that things have been going pretty well. My dad got promoted at work which is always a good thing, my grades have been steadily climbing, and Clarissa and I are on good terms.

But recently, something has shaken me up a little bit. It's nothing but a splotch in my mind right now, and I'm not letting it bother me, but I can't forget that Brad is still there.

I thought he was gone, I thought I would never have to deal with him again, but I was wrong.

No words have been exchanged, I haven't gotten anywhere near close enough to come in direct contact with him, and I seldom see him, but when I do, he stares at me. And not in a good way, but also not in the hateful way, in a playful way.

I pass him in the hall sometimes as he has his arm around a girl next to his locker and the corner of his lips will turn up a little, his tongue slipping out from his mouth and slithering across his lips. His eyes will narrow like a hawk spying a field mouse and sometimes he will jerk his head up a little in a nod. I just duck my head and hurry on my way, my throat swelling up like it did on the day in the parking lot. By the time I get to my class, it escapes my mind for the most part and I'm fine again, but a few hours later I will think of it again and my airway closes.

But I try not to think about it too much. Nothing is going to happen. Everything is fine. Everything has gotten better.

He won't ever hurt me again.

Xoxo, Alina