Fortuitous || Jack Steele [1]

fifty four

Maybe sometimes things are never meant to be.

The world has a plan for us all. Sometimes it changes, sometimes it remains on the same course.

Maybe Jack Steele was only ever a stepping stone towards a greater mountain to climb. Yet deep down I know that isn't true. He was always the one. Was.

Living in this Noosa hub was once a blessing but now it's a curse. No matter my attempts to evade Jack, it's futile. We are trapped within these four walls, which once was a good thing for us. Only now has it's become tormenting to endure every time I see his face.

I feel the shard digging into my stomach. Each day seeing him makes it all the more sharper and painful. It reminds me of all I meant to him—or how little I meant to him.

Am I really that disposable? That gullible?

Reality is a shit thing.

I was a believer in something I thought was real only for it to become a trap I fell into. I was drawn in and tricked by my own foolishness. I'm now paying the price for my oblivion.

Max and Bytes have expressed their hostility to Jack through harsh expressions whenever he is near. You can sense the cold edge on field but none of them let their personal grudges get in the way too much. They can't afford it and I prefer it that way. I don't want the failed 'relationship' to get in the way of footy.

Why did Jack do this though? Why did he lead me on?

Taylah was his old partner of 5 years. Could she have played a part in his sudden dumping of me into the dirt? Yet even if she did, even if he still had feelings for her, why would he treat me like a pig following a carrot on string? Why would he lead me astray if that was the case?

If Jack still had feelings then what's the point of kissing me? What was the point of those sweet actions and kind affection that had me melting at his touch?

Was I a rebound? Was that all I ever meant to him? A means to an end? So the outcome would be that he benefitted and I'd be left to rot in the shadows?

My mind is being compressed, ready to burst from the building up of thoughts inside my head. It pains me. I'm getting a major headache from all this. My skull is like a balloon ready to pop. The pressure is agonising.

Why me? Why?

My fingers rub my temples thoroughly in a pathetic attempt to soothe the storm inside. It doesn't do anything to quell the chaos raging within.

I release a frustrated sigh and let my hands fall from my head in defeat. My inner turmoil won't be pacified so easily. I need to get out of this room and partake in something.

There's only so much I can do though. My leg still disables me from running, which would be my go to choice. I'm still restricted to what I can do.

I push myself up and exit my room. I pad downstairs with a mentally exhausted wipe of the eyes and a yawn to symbolise my lack of sleep. I made sure make myself look unaffected so I don't worry anyone, especially Max and Bytes.

St Kilda is in the race to make finals for the first time in nine years. We are in a do or die position after our loss against the Eagles. We're teetering on the edge and must win our match against the Giants to secure our spot in the 8.