Free HIM by Brittney Cohen-Schlesinger

was a bit bizarre.
                  “It’s a long story…” I thought back to the night of the party eleven months ago.  Subconsciously I winced and my eyes clouded over.  I tried pretending like nothing was wrong but I couldn’t hide it.  Whenever I thought of what happened my inner fears took over.  I hated it and wished it would subside but it always took a while for the depressing thoughts to cool down.
                  “We have all night.”  He smiled warmly, releasing his hands from my face.  Left behind was a soothing, tingling sensation.  “And I love long stories.”
                  “You won’t love this one.”  I shuddered.  He sat us both down on a bench nearby.  He stroked at my thick hair gently.
                  I was trying to calm myself down.  Or rather, Jensen was doing that part.  I just had to convince myself to stop being such a crybaby.  I usually wasn’t this emotional.  A while back I was just a body but my mind seemed detached.  I didn’t want to feel anything anymore.  I thought if I did I would burst and let every emotion back into my life – including love.
    I wanted, more than anything, for this agonizing fear to dissolve into nothingness, along with the man I once loved more than life itself; the boy I would have died for, would have sacrificed anything and everything – without question – for.  But he was only interested in getting one thing in the end.  Jensen wasn’t like that surprisingly.  He didn’t overly ogle at with me lust in his blue eyes.  He didn’t stare at me like I was something to play with, rather than a human being.  I could tell he cared about me.  Why?  I had no clue whatsoever.  But he did.  And that was all that mattered . . . for the moment.
                  “So,” he said, “are you going to tell me about this story of yours?  Or should I change the subject?”
                  “I’m not even sure how to begin,” I admitted.  I shook my head twice and breathed in.  “I haven’t dated in almost a year.  H-he,” I stuttered, “and I ended on bad terms.  Since then I’ve been…different.”
    “How so?”  Jensen’s voice was soft, soothing.
    “I don’t think now’s such a good time to talk about this.  We’re on a date, remember?”  I felt guilty this was happening.
                  “On dates, most people like to get to know their partner a little better,” he chuckled.  “I won’t judge you in a negative light.  So please don’t feel frightened to tell me.”
                  “It’s not that,” I said.  “I’m scared to even… think about it.”  He saw the pain on my face and a look of sympathy filled his sapphire-like eyes.  He waited for me to compose myself before I spoke again.  “I just need some time…if that’s alright with you.”
                  “Of course,” he smiled.  “Whenever you’re ready.  It doesn’t have to be today, tomorrow or even next year.  At whatever time you feel most comfortable is when I’ll be prepared to listen.”
                  “You really think you’ll want me around in a year?”
                  “You haven’t given me a probable reason not to.”
    My stomach sank.  In time I would give him a reason for not wanting to be with me anymore.  If I told him what happened to me last year – and all the baggage I’d been carrying because of it – he’d leave me for sure.  I was damaged goods, used.  What guy would want a used product?
    . . . . But I couldn’t not tell him.  I didn’t even know how to begin my horror story.
                  “Mmm,” I assented.
                  “Ava,” he broke off before continuing, “may I call you Ava?” he asked.
                  “Sure.”  I was surprised that would be his nickname of choice for me; Tory was the only one