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- Nathan
Every part of my body aches for Nathan. I need to feel his strong body in my hands. I need to taste his sweet lips on mine. I need to see those beautiful dark eyes staring down at me. And … I just really need Nathan. Here. Right now. With me.
I’ve never felt this way about anyone.
I’ve never needed someone the way I need Nathan.
And needing someone wasn’t a feeling I had been acquainted with, especially in such a short amount of time. But then again, was it really a short amount of time? We may have just recently started to get to know each other … physically, but Nathan and I have known each other for, well, half of my life.
I want to tell Nathan how I feel, but should I? Is it too soon? Would he feel the same way about me? And how would I even tell him? But then a thought occurs to me.
Maybe I don’t have to tell him how I feel. Maybe instead, I can show him how I feel. My cheeks instantly warm up from this thought.
But what if I don’t know what to do? What if it’s awkward? What if I’m horrible at it? What if … STOP!
But it’s too late. I can feel it. The impending doom. It’s happening. And I can’t make it stop.
Anxiety.
Crippling, excruciating anxiety.
It begins to creep up from deep inside the abyss, making my chest tighten and my palms sweat. It’s trying to take over and win like it has done so many times.
Except for this time, I fight back.
I lie back on my bed, close my eyes, and bring the weighted blanket over my waist.
This will pass.
I start to regulate my breathing with a technique I read about while doing some research a few days ago to ensure I would never embarrass myself in a corn maze again.
Inhale for four seconds.
Hold your breath for seven seconds.
Exhale for eight seconds.
I do this again and again until the pounding clatter of my heart starts to subside.
The moment I sense I can breathe again without feeling like there are five bricks stacked on top of my chest, I decide to read the note one more time, and as I do, I realize that none of those worries matter.
They’re all silly intrusive thoughts just trying to scare me, but they won’t work this time.
It’s not possible.
Because all I know at this very moment is that IloveNathan Thomas.
And I always have.
Twenty
NATHAN
THE MORNING SUN SHINES vibrantly through the big bay window this Sunday morning in Natalie’s room, ending my peaceful night of sleep.
I might even note that it was one of the best nights of sleep I’ve had in a long time. And it didn’t just have to do with how comfortable Natalie’s bed was. Sleeping here, it felt like I had Natalie next to me the whole night, which is probably why I dreamed only of her.
And man, it was agooddream, as evident from my morning wood now rubbing up against the comforter, begging for relief, which will, unfortunately, have to wait.
