|
Post by delilah symone richards on May 27, 2012 21:26:27 GMT -5
she was still hurting. a week in new orleans didn't make a person forget though if del could've forgotten the fact that she loved brad then maybe she would've had a good time. maybe she would've been able to go to new orleans. maybe she would've gone down to new orleans, and had a good time at mardi gras, and danced, and hooked up, and flashed her tits -okay she did a good amount of that c'mon it's mardi gras- and drank and just forgotten everything bad that had happened back in hartford. forgotten brad and what it looked like to see him kissing someone else. forgotten the feeling of pain in her chest as he kissed that bitch. chances were that brad didn't even know her. that it was just some stranger much like she had been when she and brad had first kissed. but that didn't change anything. that didn't help anything. it didn't make her feel any less betrayed. and sure, they hadn't really put a label to what they were, but del sure as shit considered brad her boyfriend. she treated him like her boyfriend. he slept beside her at least three nights a week. but, maybe he didn't see it the same way.
and it had hurt, and in all reality, del had never been all that good with dealing with pain. a lot of the time she just, shoved it to the side. ignored it. other times it came out as anger. but then there were those times, where she had no clue what else to do, but just run away. she just needed to get the fuck out of dodge and sort out her head. the entire drive she hadn't known where she was going, or what she was doing. all that she knew was that she was driving. and it just kept replaying in her head. her walking up to brad and that bitch. her asking what the fuck did he think he was doing, then pushing him away from her when he tried to hug her. the steps after that were made quickly. she went back to her apartment, she packed a bag, grabbed the cash she had saved up, left her phone on top of a note saying she'd be back, and then she left. just got in her car and drove. she could've sworn that she saw jason's car passing her as she headed out of town.
for about two days she drove stopping when she felt like it, she took pictures with a disposable camera at certain places she stopped. in all reality, it wasn't a bad trip, if the reason for her packing up and leaving were different. of course somewhere deep in her mind it crossed her mind that she should call jason, or if no one else jake. they would worry about her. especially jason, since, it was just in the wilson boy's nature to worry more than he needed to about things. she didn't want to call, though. she didn't want to tell people where she was. didn't want them to tell her to come home, that things would be alright. everything would work out. all of the shit she knew that would be fed to her. she just didn't want to deal with it. any of it. she wanted to be alone, and she wanted to drive without distractions, and when she realized what the date was, she had decided that she was going to new orleans for mardi gras. but she hadn't had fun there. the entire time, she just felt like shit. and when she tried to have sex with this hot boy that she had met, she couldn't do it.
after a week of avoiding everything, she started the drive back home. she had been done for a week and half when she got back to her apartment, and jason had obviously been there. finding her phone where she left it she called him up. he came over, she got her ass chewed, then they talked. it was almost more than she wanted to deal with and part of her wanted to take off again, but she didn't. and somehow by the end of hers and jason's conversation, brad was coming over. and they were going to talk. even if he was the last person in the world that she wanted to see. she was still hurting, she loved him, and it fucking hurt. making her hate the idea of love more than she had before she had even gotten involved with bradley del rosa. del was sitting on her open window sill smoking as she waited for that not boyfriend of hers to show up. she had heard that he'd been crying. that he felt guilty. good. great. that was how he should feel as far as del saw it. she still couldn't believe she had agreed to having him come over. fucking jason, and his way of talking her into shit.
|
|