A Work of Art (a Chris Brown Love Story)

04: The Feeling That Never Went Away

Luna Livingston

     I stared down at the blank piece of paper and unused pencil in front of me. Writing was never hard for me. It always flowed. My ideas were always golden and I just knew writing was a passion of mine.

Until now. 

I wanted to update my portfolio with more updated work but it seemed I just didn't have any inspiration. All that was on my mind was Mom getting better and if I wasn't thinking about that, I was thinking back to seeing Dad hang lifeless from the ceiling in the spare bedroom at his loft. Given that Penguin Publishing has already told me no one wanted to read that, I didn't know what else to do.

How do you get your mind off the only thing your mind thinks about? I had already text Kendall and Kate about the fundraiser for Mom to see if they had any contributing ideas, but we had that conversation yesterday and today they both went back to work. I was supposed to take that extra shift at Tumbling Tots today since Kendall went back to the salon, but I didn't. The only thing harder than writing at the moment was facing Chris.

   However, years ago, he was the only person I could talk to. But, that was years ago and things were different now. I gulped as I looked over to my phone. My mind was telling me to call or text him and vent, but my heart refused. I know how this looks. Like I'm playing games, right? But I assure you, that's not it. He and I were undeniably close at one point in time, and I used to feel so weightless after telling him all of my problems, but now I don't have that. When Kate isn't working, she's off sleeping with Chris' friend, Mijo, although she thinks no one knows. And Kendall is just as close to Mom as I am, so if I open up to him about everything, he just breaks down and cries too. That's the thing though, I don't want to cry, I want to be told to be strong. I want to be consoled, but motivated. 

I should pray. 

I dropped onto my knees on the pink carpet and closed my eyes. When I closed them, for some odd reason, my mind flashed back...

       I held my left hand out and gazed at the 10-karat diamond that lied there. I'd been wearing it non-stop for months, however, now, it looked so different. It looked smaller.

More meaningless.

I twisted the band off my finger and lied it on the dresser. I looked in the mirror at my face and almost laughed. It had been a month since I'd gotten up, literally.

I felt each and every bed sore on my back and I saw every ounce of crust that'd built up in my eyes. My teeth were more stained, given the fact that I hadn't brushed them and I had endless bags under my eyes. I looked to the door as Chris walked in, holding a McDonald's bag. The bottom of it was covered in grease.

"I told you I wasn't hungry."

"What do you think you're doing?"

"I was about to bathe..." He cut me off by pointing to the ring I'd just taken off, lying on the wooden dresser. "Why'd you take off your ring? Are you thinking about leaving again?"

I sighed and walked back over to the bed. I desperately needed a shower, but God knows if Chris thought I was leaving him, he wouldn't even let me into the bathroom. "Answer me, please?" His voice was a tad softer this time. I continued to look down at the carpet beneath my feet. I didn't know the answer to his question honestly. Did I want to leave him?

Did I really want to?

    A piece of me felt as if I didn't, and that I just had to. The feeling was so conflicting. I finally got the meaning of loving someone so much, but not meaning them any bit of good. He didn't deserve to feel as if he couldn't bring his daughter over because I lost my son and couldn't fathom to see any child right now. And I didn't deserve to be forced to get up and talk to him when I was so disgusted. Was I disgusted in Chris? Or his child's mother? Or all of the above?