Chapter 4 - Reckoning

Bettany and I have been friends for years. Eight years now. We have been through some things. I am just getting to see her true colors now and I crinch at the idea that we are friends.

Am not better than her, shoot, I have my ways too, but I can live with me. Bettany, am not so sure.

"No", honks horn as she tries to block a truck from going into the fast lane.

"Get out the way", she shouts even though am sure she knows the driver can't hear her.

"Sigh, why are you behaving like this, can't you be patient" I thought

It doesn't matter what I think though. Every time we go on the road, she gets like this. Always in a rush to do everything and that is not the person I am today so it's conflicting for me.

I know road rage is a thing, I know, but what's the excuse at home? personality range?

I made many hasty decisions that gave me hell in the long run, yet I walk around and see everyone wanting everything now, it scares me.

I thought about running the conversation about Ronnie through her, but after second thought, Nah.

She never gets me and if I get one more reason to not call him am sure I won't.

*Phone rings*

No answer.

Maybe that's a sigh.

Let me call again to make sure.

*Phone rings*

No answer.

"Hey Ronnie, this is promise. I know we left off on a bad note, but if you want to talk, please return my call when you get a chance. Bye"

What now! I wondered as I threw myself on the bed.

*Phone rings*

I jumped up, it's Catherine.

I felt my excitement drop. I thought it was Ronnie.

"Hello"

"Hey, Bradshaw what's up?" As if she doesn't know my first name.

"Am here, just checking on you"

After being on the phone for several hours, we said our farewell.

Catherine is a good friend of mine, we usually talk a lot on the phone, but so much has changed.

Now we seldom speak every two weeks.

Either way, we have good conversations when we speak, so that counts for something.

I did not tell her about Ronnie, because I wasn't sure if I had something to tell.

~

Early Monday morning, as I left home for a writing seminar, I saw a missed call and a voice message from an unknown number.

" Hey promise, it's Ronnie. Glad to hear from you, but I don't want to talk right now. You always do this, and it's not fair for me to let you in every time you decide to not talk to me. What about what I feel? Don't you think I care about getting hurt or whatever excuse you have for not talking to me? Yet I show up and care and bypass your inconsistency! Listen am upset, so it's not a good time, but if I do want to talk , I will call you. Bye"

As the voice message ended, so did my excitement.

I felt tears gushing down my cheeks removing my face moisturizer and sunscreen.

"Am sorry" I muttered through my tears.

Too bad he cannot hear, nor does he care.

After thirty minutes of rethinking my life choices, I finally accepted that he was right.

Who wants to be treated like that? I don't. So how can I treat someone this way and expect a different result?

At the thought, I stopped feeling sorry for myself and went to ask Bettany if she was still going to take me to the event.

I wanted to call and leave another message, but as he said, it's not a good time, so why bother.

I struggled to write during the session, which is strange because I usually write better from pain more than anything, but this time was contrasting.

It was almost as if my neurons and neuroglia transcended into space.

I sat blank for an hour, luckily my instructor caught on and came over to me.

"Promise, we are all on earth, I see you need a reminder".

"Am here", I responded as I jumped with the distanced sounds that came from her mouth even though she was way too close to me.

"What have you written so far" she sarcastically asked as we both looked on the empty sheet of paper on the desk"

We were both silent for several seconds.

"Tell you what, take the day off, get some rest, treat yourself and come back sharp and ready on Wednesday. Can you do that?"

"No, I want to be here. Can I sit in the back and free write, instead of prompt write? I think I have some things to get off my chest.

"Of course, you are always consistent, and I have no problem excusing you. Also, if you do want to leave at any point, feel free to do so."

Consistent!

That's not what Ronnie said.

As I sat down at the back of the class with my headphone in. I decided to write a letter to Ronnie, telling him how I feel about him, my insecurities and all the things I never said that I should have.

Dear Ronnie,

Ever since I was a child, the oldest, I have always had to take on responsibilities for everyone and everything and it became so overwhelming for me. I had no idea what to do as an escape, but I knew what I wanted to feel. I wanted to feel loved and cared for and seen, and like I could relax and have someone take care of me.

I stared dating and I found it. I met guys that helped me to forget about my problems and I chased that for years. The only thing is, I got hurt, so bad it physically pains me to open again. I know you are not any of those guys and I hate that I am using my past to push you away.

I wish you could understand and not shut me out, I know you can't promise to not hurt me and more than anything, that would be the only thing I want you to promise me and actually live it out. You always make me laugh and I enjoy being around you, I am just better at hiding it than you.

I think about you the same way I do fries, and you know I love me some fries. You are just so amazingly adorable and sexy. Your muscular physic and those audacious eyes have me thinking about what it would feel like rubbing against you and staring into your soul.

You are a walking encyclopedia and even though it drives me crazy when you won't shut up, I would rather hear you talk than not. I am so distracted by the message you sent me; I am here sitting in class for the past hour unable to Write. Yes, I just said that, so I am not in a good place.

I know you don't want to talk, and I don't blame you. I have been ignoring you for the past couple of months because I have been feeling everything I am writing here and more but I could not say it to you. I fear falling in love more than getting hurt at this point, so that is why I have been inconsistent.

No excuses, but maybe you were a little harsh with that word, because Instructor Harris told me I am consistent, so one of you are lying and she seems to be telling the truth.

Anyways, I am sorry, and I don't know if this means anything to you since you are out of country and I don't know if I ruined our chances, but I wanted to let you know how I feel.

I also want to ask, why have you never mentioned your siblings?

I hope you don't leave me hanging, no pressure though!

Regards,

Promise

Sigh! I had no idea I felt this way.

Writing really heals my soul.

That was the easy part, the hard part his deciding if I should send it.

Class ended.

I waved to the instructor and left. By the time I got to the door, I heard her screamed my name.

I turned around and there she was holding my note in her hand.

I bolted over, and she handed it to me, I wanted to melt.

"You had a lot on you mind I see. Reading my facial expressions she assured, " Don't worry, I didn't read it"

I faintly smiled and thanked her then left.

I stopped the car at the post office and shipped it off to the address Ms. Cecelia gave me.

I knew if I read it, I wasn't going to send it.

This is so humiliating.

A part of me wants him to respond, but the other part is glad she took a step to express herself and if she gets a response that is great, if she doesn't that's also great.

My job is to be normal while I wait to see the outcome.