growing up to do that I’m not ready for just yet. Remember, I’m younger than all of you and kind of spent my entire adolescence studying and cheering. Look at me, Lex. I drink and do all kinds of crazy things, like flash mobs of people.”
“So? You didn’t do anything wrong last night. You’re a young twenty-something having a good time. Maybe you could’ve kept yourself from blacking out, but you did black out. Big whoop.”
“So, I’m not ready to give up this life yet, and no one wants an impulsive, hot mess by their side.”
Okay, my arguments may not have been completely truthful. In an effort to be more mature and focus on med school this past year, I pretty much gave up all of the weekend parties and drinking binges before I came here. I also wanted to be the kind of person that a responsible man would want as opposed to the booty call for lots of other men. But, I blew all of that away in a matter of minutes. Cue extreme self-loathing in three, two, and one...
“I know you missed out on a lot of your youth, Journey, so you’re kind of making up for lost time, and then some. I just find it interesting that you never have eyes for one man longer than a few weeks, hell...often not longer than a few hours, yet when we’re here, Jack’s the only one you see. Think about that.”
What I didn’t know at the time was how often Jack would not simply be a part of my thoughts, he would consume them.
Three Years Later
Don’t bother texting or reaching out to me again. I’ve changed my number. I’ve moved on. I never had feelings for you and I never will.
I stared at the screen on my phone willing the words to say something else. Willing another message to come through. But it didn’t work. That was the last direct communication I’ve had and will probably ever have with Journey Ferrer. I still have the message saved on my phone- I refuse to delete it. It’s as if I’m missing something about the entire situation. I tried texting and calling her, but they were all ignored.
I don’t understand what happened. We were talking regularly, planning for this year’s trip, and then a bomb was dropped on me as I was going through family finances and business matters. I had to drop everything I was doing, leave New York, and come back home to New England to deal with it.
I knew she went to Cabo anyway, as I hoped she would, I didn’t want to ruin her vacation. I knew because my buddies kept tabs on her and told me about it, and she texted me from there. Every message had been what she was doing and where she was going and how was not the same without me there. Life certainly isn’t the same without her in it.
Most professionals, especially those like me who wouldn’t have any public musings to share, don’t have a Facebook or social media accounts. Even if I did, I don’t have a real friends to be “friends” with on those accounts- just business associates. I was so pathetic, that didn’t stop me from looking her up on social media. She seemed to be doing well and even seemed happy. Eventually, I quit looking. No one in their right mind constantly checks up and follows someone who has either moved on or wants nothing to do with them.
I’m supposed to be focusing on getting my family back in order and researching how I can continue moving forward with my life and right several wrongs I’ve made. I haven’t spoken to George Foster in years, and for good reason. He has betrayed me in the worst of ways, but it doesn’t bother me. It doesn’t hurt me. He will get what he deserves. Call it pride, but, I can’t believe I allowed myself