October 6, 2016
Some people talk about how their lives are exactly what they used to dream about. I never was one too think past a day or two. I think in that aspect, I was much like my father who used to live one day at a time.
It was true I never consciously thought about my dream life, although, I did write about my life as it went. Sort of a journal kind of therapy my shrink made me start after my father's passing.
I guess I could say I was having the best life I could possibly write about.
I had the girl, I had the grades, I seemed to finally see a light at the end of the tunnel that was law school... Everything felt like it was going in the right direction. And maybe that is the reason I have been uneasy.
For as long as I can remember I have been what I like to call, a realist. Although my mother tends to think of me as more of a pessimist kind of person—I am starting to think she ought to be right.
What kind of person gets everything they could possibly want and still end up feeling like something is bound to go wrong? And of course, the thing I thought would go wrong was my relationship.
Could I even call it that though? After that gathering at Cecilia's place, and my message kind of making fun of what my mother had said about us being girlfriends all she did was reply with a laugh and a monkey emoji covering its mouth and then we never talked about that again.
I was too scared to even ask what that was about and have her say something I was not prepared to hear. So instead, I let it go. And by let it go I mean I let it consume my every awaking thought—that is, whenever I was left wake and alone.
She did not pull back from me or started acting strange. But I think that is what scared me the most. I could not help but remember when I first mentioned us being friends and she just smiled at me and brushed it off.
She did come around to it eventually, so maybe it was more a matter of time. It could all just be that she felt a little too much pressure from my mother that evening.
I will just have to wait and see what happens next.
Yesterday Cecilia and I were in her bed, I was reading an article Evelyn had suggested might help me start my research program—yeah, she ended up having it her way eventually, I was both in the research program and in the mediation center now—, and Cecilia was preparing yet another extra credits activity for her students.
"Haven't you given them enough extra points already? When will you even have time to grade all those papers? This is like the third one I've seen you preparing since they took your test." I admit, we were stating to act like an old couple—once again, are we even a couple though?
"Remember how I said I would get back on Eve for bringing your mother along that night?" I nodded with a smile forming on my face, I could see where she was going with that.
"I made her promise she would grade my papers for the rest of the semester." Evil woman, I loved that side of her.
I put my laptop on the nightstand, and then did the same with hers, before straddling her. I knew she hated when I stopped her in the middle of her work like that, but to be honestly, I did not care at that moment.
"She will just get her PA to do that for her. I don't understand why you never bothered to get a PA of your own." She was half sitting with her back against the headboard and propped herself up while she looked at me with an odd look.
"What do you mean? I have one. Gosh, what's her name again, Andy, Andrea? I can't remember, but I do have one." She seemed almost annoyed I had implied otherwise, yet she pulled me closer.
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