Winter Air [H.S.]

Fifty-Two

Songs: 
In My Arms - Jon Foreman 
Love Bug - Jonas Brothers 
Just The Girl - The Click Five || (I completely forgot about this song and how much I used to love it. I rediscovered it this weekend and re-fell in love with it!) 

| fifty-two |

Sometimes, the universe is out to get you. At first it may seem like all of the odds were playing for you, and your life was moving along perfectly. But one day everything that you thought to be good and true in your life decides to reveal it's true colors. It then shows that real life isn't sunshine and lollipops. That there are dark clouds that gloom above from time to time. It is a reminder of the reality of life. That being simple; not everything is going to work out for you. That life will throw you curve balls. Those curve balls are going to hit you so hard that you will be left sitting on the cold, hard ground dumbfounded that you were naive enough to believe that everything was always going to be good. The simplicity of this is that life will hurt you. The old saying couldn't be closer to the truth: reality is a bitch. 

Ava sat on the roof of her apartment for the past few hours.  The sun had not risen yet. The air around her was crisp yet bearable. The morning breeze nips at her nose. She wraps the blanket closer to her; an action that she has mastered over the years. She sits alone even though Harry is sound asleep just a few floors down from her. His presence brought a crazy amount of peace to her soul, but she was hungry for some time to herself. She had managed to slip away from his tight grasp around her half naked body, and was able to sneak up to her favourite spot in LA.

Her fingers are holding the envelope tightly. She debates whether or not it would be best to open it up and make a game plan. She had been debating over the past hour if it would be a good idea to talk to him. If it would be beneficial to her well being. She had been making a mental pro and con list; the con side taking on a massive lead. 

She inhales a deep breath. Her exhale becoming shaky, the nerves getting the best of her. "Come on Ava. You can do this. It's just an envelope." She says to herself. With another inhale of breath, she opens the envelope. 

Inside are a few pieces of paper that have been paper clipped together. She unfolds the bundle. Inside is a picture of her dad. His bright hazel eyes a perfect match to her own. The picture that she had engraved into her mind since childhood of her father is still the same. However, a few grey hairs and wrinkles around the eyes have made it’s way to the surface. He looks the same but older. She can’t help but smile at the resemblance she shares with him. 

Behind the photograph is a piece of paper that lists out the many novels and series’ that he had written. Ava remembered when she was eight she had asked her mother about her father. She asked the simple questions: what was he like, what was his job, was he nice. Her mother would go on and on about how great of an author he was. That his dream was to become a famous author. When Ava had told her mom that she wanted to be an editor and even a writer, her mom broke into tears. She kept saying that “you are just like your dad” and a series of “he would be so proud”. 

Thinking about it now, she couldn’t help but wonder if he would truly be proud of her. If he knew that she had managed to get an internship at a top newspaper would he be happy. Maybe he did know. Perhaps he did and wasn’t proud. That thought alone made Ava’s heart tumble to the pit of her stomach. 

She shook it off and looked at the other papers that were paper clipped. There was a small slip of paper that was clipped behind the list of his works that had listed his contact information. His address, e-mail, and number were listed below. Everything that she would need to contact him was in her fingertips. Yet she still felt hesitant. She didn’t know if she would be intruding on his life. “He didn’t even want to see you in the first place. He left when he knew you were coming. Don’t even bother,” her subconscious kept screaming at her. But the more that she thought about it, the more she wanted to see him. She had questions that needed answers.