'The lost city of Atlantis once existed', 'Aliens are walking among us'. 𝒁𝒂𝒓𝒂 believes in all. But Mafia in the 21st century is a MYTH.
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𝑮𝒊𝒂𝒏 𝑨𝒓𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒊, the underboss of the organized crime family Cosa Nostra, meets a kindergarten te...
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I feel like apologizing to the girls I had stamped as sluts in my mind. On contrary to my natural behavior, I never gave my comment to any of it and heard everything with a fake smile plastered on my face, every chance my friends got they discussed it. And I had to hear about the length and width and lack of dick sizes of their latest catch since we were 15.
They craved fuckboys of our school. Played to be ignorant of gossips about them hooking up with other girls in school. It was ridiculous to see them behave like that. My only saving grace was them never asking me about my sex life.
Now, I get what they must have been feeling. All-day I waited for Gian to come back, give me some silly excuse so I could forgive him and move back to whatever we were.
I have been let down numerous times before. It had hurt me but I had recovered from them pretty quickly. I just cut them off of my life completely. The thought bothers me still from time to time when I lay awake on my bed. I feel like I might have been cruel to them for not giving them a second chance. Life isn't a movie, people don't necessarily say the word 'Sorry', 'forgive me' but they speak with their actions. I realized them after becoming friends with Helen. How she behaves as though everything is normal and expects me to do the same.
But still, the concept of forgiveness made not much sense to me, "Oh, this is good. Let's hurt someone and then pop out of nowhere and say sorry. Great!!!" Were my last parting words to the people I had once loved so much, I had feared to be separated from them. But, nobody bothered to call me if I had made it here safely. The bitter reality and the tears coming after that would lull me into a deep slumber.
Deep down, It only concreted my vow to never forgive... unless they deserve it. If the excuse is worth listening to and believable. Then why am I ready to forgive Gian. If he just shows up.
In the morning, when I woke up. Gian wasn't there. A shawl I had left on the chair was covering me. Van Gogh was sleeping soundly in a comfortable position and the door was locked. It didn't occur to my small mind that he had left.
Until afternoon I was done with lunch for two and dressed in tight fitted blue jeans with a white loose tee. My legs didn't feel comfortable in jeans and I had this only one pair. But I wanted Gian to see me in something different. Creasing the jeans over my knees so it looked a bunch of thick bangles to feel a little comfortable, I looked around to find a note he must have left. Then checked my phone to see if he had added his number to my phone. Nothing...
My vision darkened for a moment. I blamed it on food, as I had not eaten anything. Waiting for Gian. A crazy and off-putting thought popped into my head. What if it was my imagination. Those mozzarella sticks were too good to be true and the kiss.....
I checked my phone for pictures and couldn't find any of them. Confused, I call Helen.
