Inside My Head

the literary rantings of Angie Frissore

Moving On

I wasn’t sure if it was right, but then again, I wasn’t certain it was wrong. I couldn’t be certain. I mean, it was research, right?

I’d spent a considerable amount of time underwater, routinely coming up empty-handed, but yet, I carried with me the hope of still finding that pearl, no matter how ridiculous I looked in the process. It had to be out there…and if I listened to my own common sense, and that of others, I’d end up settling for a shiny piece of sea glass instead.

There were no longer fresh scars from Damon…there weren’t even any that were almost healed, but still itched like hell. I couldn’t remember what it had been like to have him bruise my ego or my heart. In fact, when the dust settled and I stopped and looked around, there was no negativity in general, whether Damon-related or otherwise, and I stopped for a moment, in awe of the rarity of it all.

I sipped at my coffee, watching the snow fall through the window, and waiting for Rick to drive away. He left early, citing work-related necessities on behalf of his ride home, and was picked up at 10:00, a day and a half earlier than planned. I wondered for a moment if his plan would have worked, had he not been picked up in a different car. Part of me wanted to be angry with the lie, but the majority of me was just glad to see him leave, freeing up the rest of my weekend.

I settled down on the couch and wrapped a fleece blanket around myself as Taco curled up next to me. I fumbled momentarily to retrieve my cell phone from Taco’s armpit and called Samantha.

“Hey…what’s wrong?” She asked, sounding worried. She had expected me to be far too consumed with Rick’s visit to be calling.

“Nothing’s wrong,” I said. “Rick left early.”

“Really? Why? In the snow?”

“Yep. Who cares why, really…I’m kinda glad he’s gone.” I complained.

“No good, huh?” She asked, knowingly.  She knew there was only one main reason I’d be so nonchalant.

“No good.”

“Ugh, so, um…when did you realize this, if you don’t mind me asking?” she asked.

“Day one.”

“Dear god, woman…you should fucking sainted.”


December 26, 2008 - Posted by | No Messages - Excerpts from the Draft | , ,

1 Comment »

  1. You can’t find a pearl, it must grow and find you.

    Comment by howard | December 27, 2008 | Reply

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