There is something about pillows that make me feel comforted like an old lover holding you in your vacancy. I stack them up high around me like a mound.
In the comfort I can feel the drip and I know there is no way to sleep, not in this paranoia. I pound back two tall boys and a bowl and watch my hands slowly caress the pillows...I know I can sleep...now.
The table keeps echoing the same vibrations from Brady's relentless power struggle.
Lacey get your ass over here.
I know that there are most likely three other woman receiving the same message from him a pure way of putting all your eggs in three separate baskets. I pick up my phone and start texting an ex boyfriend who I haven't seen in five years. The description of my blouse and the local of my hands entices him to create an explicit conversation.
Do I dare to keep it up?
I tell him that I want him and that I need him and that I wish he was laying besides me. Then I press send, but its not his name on the screen it's Brady. As soon as it vanishes my phone starts to vibrate.
I'm on my way! =)
"Fuck!" I scream, while running to the bathroom. I reach for the towel accidentally toppling over my perfume and smashing the glass vile. The room is now overpowering with the smell of mildly cheap cologne. I scrap my face with the wash clothe and tear off my clothes it must look like I've been sleeping for an hour or more. He'd buy that right? I'd buy that. I'd buy anything.
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