About That Sunday

Jessica: Chelsea Marin.

'Honestly what the hell am I thinking?' I screamed to myself as I paced back and forth in my bedroom. Through the bathroom door I could hear the shower running. Chelsea managed to find some clothes that lived up to her expectations in my closet.

I let my mind drift as I paced. Chelsea knew what happened to me. When my mind drifts back into the darkness she finds a way to pull me back to reality naturally. It wasn't from skill or a deep routed understanding. She was just there when it happened out of pour happenstance.

From the kitchen I heard a phone ringing and it snapped me back into reality. It had to be Chelsea's. Even the ringtone screamed business formal.

I followed the ringing to the kitchen counter and turned the phone over to see who was calling her. Part of me was wondering if it was Ryan. I didn't know what she had told him of our encounters. Truth be told I hoped it was nothing.

When my eyes landed on the screen I was surprised. I didn't recognize the name.

"Anna." I read the name out loud.

'Probably a friend of hers.' I thought to myself. 'Or her girlfriend.'

I didn't want to read too much into it because I didn't know much about her. Other than the fact that she has impeccable timing. She always shows when I am on the verge of a mental breakdown.

Behind me I heard the bathroom door open. I quickly placed her phone back down on the counter only to find Chelsea staring at me from the doorway.

"See anything good?" Chelsea's eyes locked with mine and I felt myself begin to panic. My eyes took her in as I felt my heart pounding in my chest.

Her hair was still damp. Chelsea's right hand held a white towel. She used it to gently dry the back of her neck as she walked towards me. Her borrowed collared shirt wasn't buttoned completely and my eyes traveled down her body to her exposed stomach. She really was beautiful. Even when she dressed like a middle aged woman. It was clear that she was trying to look older, less sexy even. Despite the amount of effort she put into dumbing her looks down her allure was still extremely present.

"Jessica?"

Her voice shocked me. My eyes left her body and shot back to her glare. Involuntarily I felt the heat begin to rise in my cheeks.

'Maybe she didn't notice my staring.' I thought to myself.

"I...em," My voice broke as embarrassment rushed through my veins. "I'm sorry."

I watched Chelsea's eyes narrowed a bit. A slight small smile appeared on her lips and as quickly as it came it disappeared.

"Don't be." Chelsea's blue eyes beamed through mine. "I was wondering if I could use your hair dryer?" Her free hand reached down and grabbed her phone.

I stayed locked on her gaze longer than I intended. Her eyes, they were breathtaking and overwhelming. They're beautiful, powerful, and completely authoritative. But there was something else buried deep in those beautiful blue eyes. Something that seemed playful or flirtatious; maybe even curiosity.

"Jessica?"

"It's in the closet in the bathroom." My voice broke a bit as I spoke and Chelsea offered me a reassuring smile.

"Thank you."

As Chelsea left the kitchen my eyes lingered on her back and my mind drifted to my past. Pretty girls can be found everywhere. New York is littered with beautiful people but Chelsea was different. She is more than just a pretty face in the crowd.

She knows things about me that my family and friends know nothing about. Chelsea has picked up my broken pieces more times than anyone else and oddly enough we know nothing about each other.

Part of me wanted to get to know her. There's a small part of me that was completely curious about her but the darkness in my mind is something I didn't not want to share. It's bad enough she caught a small glimpse of it last night and at Ryan's.

The very thought of that morning triggers it. My mind started to fill with pain as the image of Richard Price flickers into my mind. I could feel my heart start to pound in my chest as my breathing becomes more and more rapid.

Instinctively, one of my hands found a home over my rapidly rising chest as if it could slow down its movements. I closed my eyes and try to calm myself back down but I fail over and over again. My ears tuned into the erratic breathing with a new found hyper sensitivity.

"I'm okay." I tell myself as I open my eyes only to find Chelsea staring at me. Our eyes meet again but this time I tear my eyes away from hers. I felt the urge to stand and remove myself from her presence so I walked over to a window leaving Chelsea to stare at my back. I wanted to crawl out of my skin. I wanted remove myself from this body and everything that reminds me of that man.

"I'll get these clothes back to you." Chelsea spoke softly. "Thank you."

"It's fine." I answered her while my eyes stayed focused on the view of the New York streets.

"I have to get going." I could hear my front door opening. "Oh and remember to lock the door, we live in New York."

When she said it a small giggle escaped from my lips and as I turned to look at her the front door closed. I was dumbfounded by her timing. Chelsea always walked in to find me at my craziest and for some reason it didn't seem to faze her whatsoever.

I walked to the door only to find the bottom lock was already locked. She must have turned it before she pulled the door closed.

"You're a strange woman Chelsea Marin but thank you."

Part of me wondered if I would get another opportunity to thank her properly. I wanted to thank her but I was always playing catch up to my fucked up mind.

Being alone with fear can rapidly turn into panic. Being alone with frustration can rapidly turn into anger. Being alone with disappointment can rapidly turn into discouragement and, even worse, despair.

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A/N To be honest, I'm not sure how many people will actually read this book but if there's someone out there that needs to hear this....here it is. I just want you to know that if you feel down, there's hope. You're not alone. You're beautiful, you're loved, and you're perfect just how you are. It's not easy to find a reason to smile every day but I promise you, one day you'll look back at this and say. 'I made it.' It's your battle but you do not have to fight this war on your own.

Thank you,
Keep reading/writing.
Lisamstu.