A Better Pair of Shoes, a novel
Chapter 24
Jeff
Still Unfulfilled
In my mind, she was arguably the sexiest woman I had ever
pulled, but she hadn’t added anything to the shell I gave to her. I remained unfulfilled. It was nothing to do with her, or the sex we
had shared, but this was not the life or woman I wanted. Still, I tried to convince myself that this
was where I needed to be—being true to myself, and not confining myself to a
monogamous relationship. Yet I felt
drained. I missed my friend and our
love. Everyday apart from her and my son
left my heart weaker. I was no good to
myself. In fact, I hadn’t written a
single word in over two weeks, and although I had just finished writing my new
book, my contract and schedule demanded that I keep writing. I had tried showing up on her doorstep and
begging her to take me back, but I wasn’t exactly built that way. I knew I could get her in bed, but I didn’t
know how to get her back—at least, not without making some real tough
decisions. Eventually, I’d drink my
thoughts away or find another woman to distract them. I kept trying to pin point what was so
different about her. I’d definitely been
with better looking women, but Ketly was so intentional and romantic. And until now, she had never made any demands
of me. She was just so real, so secure,
so loving, and—there’s this way she looks at me. I haven’t found anyone like her
anywhere. For almost a year and a half,
she intoxicated me with her love. More
times than not, I would awaken to a good morning text— with deep poetic shit. I sometimes wondered if it was all for me, or
if it was just her flow. She reached me
at a place no woman had ever reached me.
It was hard for me to believe that all her love had dried up. Well, it was tough to see that she could just
pull it away like that.
I found myself standing in the kitchen, reaching for an
unopened bottle of liquor, and taking it to the bathroom with me. The one my date and I had been drinking from
earlier was already empty. I’d been
drinking less when Ketly was in the picture, but lately it was creeping back up
on me. I swallowed about ten capsules of
aspirin, and chased them with the devil in my right hand. There was no panic, no tears. It was always a thought that never seemed to
wander far from my mind— since I was a kid.
This though was far more advanced than the expired bottle of pills I had
tried with as a teenager. I plugged the
bathtub, and started the pipe. I stepped
into the large tub, and relaxed my heavy mind.
I waited for the water to overtake me, and in the meantime I continued
to flood my insides. I felt the warmth
of the water around my waist and climbing.
I thought about my son and wanted to fight for him, but something was
fighting me back. My will to win was
fading. After all, I’d fought my way
through enough. I’d fought away abuse. I’d fought away pure fear living on the
streets at the age of sixteen. Most
notably, I’d fought away the statistics that said I’d always be poor, but the
one thing I had never been able to completely fight off, was the feeling of not
being wanted, and I was tired of losing that fight. I thought about Shayne— I wished I could fight
on for him, but all my fight was gone.
Lastly, I thought…
I’m in so much
pain... I’m so alone. I can’t live like
this. I hate this feeling. I don’t want to feel this feeling anymore.
A Better Pair
of Shoes, a novel © Grace Call Communications,
LLC Copyright
©2010, 2016, 2017 by Natisha Renee Williams All Rights Reserved
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