Jamie still makes more margaritas.
“What are you, seventeen to be mixing alcohol later on, Jamie?” I smirk at him, as we stay inside, Jamie sulking that he can’t flirt with Jack, but he doesn’t appear in his garden anyway, as he’s too busy cooking and I wonder how Karen actually is.
“But do you think he’s interested in men?” Jamie is oblivious to the glance he had given me, as we walked away and I just moan to myself about it, feeling some undisclosed desire coming from his side to taint another wife. I shift in the sofa, Jamie angrily drinking and thinking about his own love life, which apparently he wouldn’t mind a cheater. Doesn’t look like he was open about being polyamorous. I groan. I don’t even answer Jamie’s question as I muse on Jack’s infidelity, as I wonder if it’s even fair, what if he was just an asshole but Karen was aware of his polyamory, then an open relationship is fine, as long a I know-
“Yes, he’s into men!” I nearly scream out and Jamie stops pacing around, wondering how to pounce and realizes that I am solely trying to ignore my own thoughts. I shouldn’t have even thought of him, I should’ve left him there and never talked to him, never let my thoughts wonder when Alex is off to work and I muse too much, since I can’t get pregnant anyway, so all the given time is suddenly lost in purpose waving melancholy to fill in the space. I’m like a bored housewife now. I shouldn’t have painted him as someone well.
There is no point in throwing things away when depression takes it toll, so Jamie just keeps looking through my wardrobe, too lazy to go back home, which isn’t too far away and he just keeps throwing clothes at me for a while, until I sulk so much that he gets ice cubes for me and he just holds me for a while, rocking, as I try to ease from my own state, from the sharp depression spikes.
Why do I feel like crying from regret, which I haven’t even done yet? I want to ask Jamie, but I don’t, looking at Alex’s side of the bed and imagining him as he wakes up every morning, shaking me lightly so that I would awake and spend the next hour with him, instead of having sleep dipped in tough depression.
Why do I feel like crying from regret, which I haven’t even done yet? I want to ask Jamie, but I don’t, looking at Alex’s side of the bed and imagining him as he wakes up every morning, shaking me lightly so that I would awake and spend the next hour with him, instead of having sleep dipped in tough depression.
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Sorry that I didn't update earlier, my depression has been a bit bonkers lately and I've had trouble writing because I truly get depressed what if my writing is bad and it eats me. I even painted today to avoid writing and then got depressed that what even my art is bad. It's odd and awful, so yeah. I dunno, if you enjoy anything just poke me, I'm really going up walls these days with everything and anxiety being the cherry on top.
This chapter was written quite a while ago, I'm just spacing out the updates so yeah:3
I guess what I always liked about this story was Alison's severe depression and sometimes again it just hits you and you don't even know what to do and when you're attracted to someone who you think won't even glance at you twice, it's even worse, because depression will keep nailing you that you're not worth of their attention or anyone's and somehow ice cubes yank you back into reality and make you think maybe
I'm not that bad. But that doesn't last too long either.
I hope you enjoyed it and if you did, please tell me and I'll have the next chapter up!
<3
Jamie
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