"When I feel that pretty pussy of yours clenching, I don't want it around my fingers."
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Alison Collins is a young woman who came to San Diego to party. But fate has other plans with her as it lets h...
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It gets worse every day. Missing him is probably the most unbearable thing I've ever went through and as much as I'm trying, there's no sign of recovery. I've lost my appetite. I can't sleep. My failed attempts to fall asleep by rolling from one side of the bed to the other at night, trying to find a comfy position, are really draining my strength.
I stopped counting how many times my finger hovered over the call button, wanting to get me out of this misery by letting him back into my life but I couldn't. I mean, what should I say?
Hey, yeah this is Alison. So I'm finally calling after two weeks, partly because I can't sleep anymore but also because I miss you so damn much that the thought of you alone makes me want to rip my heart out because it hurts so fucking much.
Yeah, in no case.
The last two weeks I've spent with thinking about the consequences our relationship would have. Since the articles have mostly stopped I could at least recover from this shock, but what would happen if I would forgive him and we would someday make our relationship official? This was probable only the calm before the storm. How would my life look like with him? I mean I assume that we won't just be able to walk out of the house together because of reporters and his fans, so would would we do? Would I still be able to leave the house on my own when people had already wished me death without knowing who I am by just seeing someone at his side.
This uncertainty makes me slowly loose my mind and I know that the only solution would be talking to him, but everytime I wanted to call him, I get scared. Scared that if I would only hear his voice, there would be no turning back anymore. Because I know that if I would let him back into my life, I won't be able to let him go again.
After another night of laying awake in bed, starring at the ceiling as I'd waited for morning to come, I toss my sheets to the side and slowly get up on my feet. I head to the bathroom to take a quick shower before getting dressed and making my way downstairs.
"Morning."
"Morning, honey." my mom greets me as she flips through the newspapers like every morning, sitting at the small kitchen table. When she looks up at me her eyes grow wide, "Were you out last night?"
"No?" I hiss, getting annoyed at the permanent surveillance in this house. I'm in desperate need of my own place.
"Well, you do look like you've been up all night." she states and pulls her attention back to the piece of paper in her hands.
Yeah, maybe because I was?
But I would never tell my parents that I can't sleep because if I would tell them, they would want to know the reason why and since I'm a bad liar, I would have to tell them and with all due to respect, I would not want to do this. Furthermore because I don't wanna talk about it and also because I don't know what I wanna do just yet.
You see the misery I am in?
"Where's dad?" I ask my mother after making a cup of coffee for myself.
