The Love Equation

Chapter 2

The clock on my bedside table glows a soft angry red, and when I crane my neck to the left, I briefly catch a glimpse of the time: 4:47am. Since Celia left in an uber around ten o'clock, I've been tossing and turning, barely managing to get a couple hours of sleep. She'd tried to talk me into a sleepover, arguing that she had had too many glasses of wine, but I knew if she had stayed it would be for my benefit - and Celia's been doing one too many things on my account the past couple days.

And while the company would have been appreciated, I'm happy to be alone, and not just because of the insomnia plaguing me at the moment. I can't get his words out of my head. He doesn't regret how he treated me, he's doing just fine. His answers to Myra's questions are playing on a constant loop through my racing mind.

I wish I had been in London with the rest of the cast, wish I could've slung shitty words his way to make him feel even a fraction as shameful as I have these past few months. I would do anything to turn his life into a pit of depression and isolation mirroring my own. But when did I become this person? This resentful version of myself that sleeps until noon, avoids her friends and family, and lets the opinions of others define herself. Not only did James have the last word, but he's fucking winning.

And even though I can't stop feeling sorry for myself, I've overstayed my welcome at this pity party. By hiding away, I've only proved to people that I do, in fact have something to be embarrassed about. Well fuck that.

I was up and out of bed the second the sun started its ascent into the sky. I might as well be productive if I'm not going to sleep. My crusty bed was my first target, and as I stripped the sheets and pillowcases off, I cursed myself for eating ice cream in bed last week - the right side of the duvet was sporting an unintelligible brown smudge. Looks like I'll be washing the duvet cover too.

Once the washer was packed and running, I set about the task of cleaning my room. Errant empty cups and water bottles finally found their way to the sink, as well as any unattended silverware. I shove all laundry into my hallway hamper, making a note to myself to buy more detergent. I can finally see the full floor of my bedroom, and the relief hits me unexpectedly. I've never been a slob.

I head into the bathroom and strip off my (dirty) pajamas and turn the shower to full-blast. For the first time in weeks, I shave every nook and cranny of my body, which means I spend an ungodly amount of time in that shower. By the time I towel off, my skin is a splotchy red.

There's nothing quite like an "everything" shower to make you feel your best, and I sure as hell need it. Today's the day I reenter society, so I need to look my best.

After a good blowdry courtesy of my reality show approved dyson airwrap, and a light dusting of makeup, I pull on my tried and true agolde jeans, and a flattering black tee. I fit the standard bill of every employee at the Buzz, which is perfect, because that's where I'm headed. I shove my feet into my favorite pair of reebok's and am out the door by 6:15.

The ten minute walk to work this morning is a peaceful one and it's quite literally, a breath of fresh air. My feet take me towards the Buzz, as if on auto-pilot, and as I make my way down the tree-lined streets of lakeview, any worries I'd had about running into viewers of the show are squandered, the only people out this early are joggers and the occasional dog parent. I'm grateful for this small comfort, it allows me to relax and appreciate my surroundings. While I'm an autumn girl at my core, there's just something about Chicago in the summertime.

I listen to the soothing sound of birds chirping as I take in the sights ahead of me. The gorgeous brownstones to my left and the small grassy strip to the left of the sidewalk before the street, housing flower beds of all different sorts.The occasional garden gnome makes an appearance every couple blocks, and I smile in delight as I spot my favorite sidewalk library, full of books suited for all different ages. I'd missed these small details when I'd been cooped up in my apartment. I've lived in Lakeview the entire 6 years I've been in Chicago, and yet I never get tired of the neighborhood feel it's famous for.