Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 129373 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 647(@200wpm)___ 517(@250wpm)___ 431(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129373 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 647(@200wpm)___ 517(@250wpm)___ 431(@300wpm)
Plus, it’s a big day tomorrow.
Like, really big. Phone will be ringing off the hook.
First, I’ll get calls from all my girls – The Heartstone Sisters – Renn, Penny and Willow, who just had the cutest baby girl ever, Fallon. Ah, I can’t wait to babble with that little cutie on FaceTime.
After that, I’m sure Brian will call too.
I haven’t seen him since Christmas last year when he came to visit with his new girlfriend. That’s still going strong actually, and I couldn’t be happier for him.
Then again, that guy dates a lot like he did back in high school. So far none of the girls have stuck around and the wish I made for him the day he came to see me in Connecticut two years ago is still unfulfilled.
But I’m keeping my fingers crossed that this is the real deal. That my best friend finally falls in love after the inadvertent pain we caused each other.
Oh and my mom might call too.
We talk occasionally and over the last two years, we’ve come closer. I’m still convinced that it was the story about my real dad that helped pave the way. Although, it could also be the fact that she’s waiting for the day I’ll wake up from my dream and get my heart broken – since I chose to run away from Connecticut again, despite all her warnings to give up hope – so she can pick up the pieces and say I told you so.
But the thing is I’m not waking up again.
The thing is I live in a new world now.
A world of dreams. A dreamland.
Anyway, I’ve got another person in my life, my sister, Fiona. Although I don’t think she’s calling. We hardly ever talk and some people in my life don’t like her.
Well, one person in my life doesn’t like her all that much. He doesn’t even like my mother all that much either, but he tolerates her because I tell him to be nice to her.
Which reminds me I have to tell him again because big day tomorrow.
But that’s not the point.
The point is that a girl is staring at me.
It’s not a very hard stare, honestly.
The girl who’s doing it is looking at me for a few seconds before focusing away, toward the fresh vegetables; we’re at the produce section.
So the prickling – the thing that happens on my scalp and the back of my neck when someone stares at me for longer than acceptable – isn’t very continuous. It comes and goes with her eyes on me like a flash of lightning and maybe that’s why I missed it.
But I can feel it now.
I can feel the prickle. I can feel the flush spreading around my throat. I can feel my heart picking up speed and my doomsday brain banging.
Chaos.
That’s what anxiety is.
It’s mayhem inside your head. It makes you jumpy and restless. It makes you want to hide or run away to a place where there’s silence. And peace.
Yeah, it’s a peace-stealer, anxiety.
There are many ways to get rid of it and in the past, I’ve done it by taking the easy way out. By denying that it’s there or by using crutches.
But these days, I handle things head on.
It’s not easy. So before I can chicken out, I glance up from my phone and look directly at the girl.
And smile.
“Hi,” I say.
She appears startled, her eyes going wide and her lips parting a little. That wasn’t my intention at all though. I was just trying to get control of the situation, as my therapist, Kate, says.
Get control of the situation, Vi. That’s the best way to beat anxiety. Get out of your head and try to do things, pay attention to the surroundings.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you,” I chuckle slightly. “I just thought you wanted to say something to me.”
Although for the life of me I can’t imagine what.
My knee-jerk reaction is to assume the worst. Maybe she wants to tell me that my dull blonde/brown hair is a little too dull or my lips are a little too thick. Maybe she wants to comment on how pale I am.
All these thoughts run into my head but still, I smile. I keep smiling at her, waiting for her answer.
“Sorry.” She chuckles too, a little bashfully. “I just… I love your dress.”
Surprised, I look at it myself. I’m still not a dress or make-up kind of girl but I do wear both sometimes.
I sweep a hand down the skirt and take a deep breath.
See?
She gave me a compliment. It wasn’t anything bad that my doomsday brain made me think. Everything is really fine.
“Thank you,” I tell the girl, looking up and smiling again. “I love it too.”
“I just love the colors.”
“You do?”
“Yeah. I love how pink and red go together.”