Livvy opened her medicine cabinet and reached for a small pill bottle. Only one pale pill entered her mouth, but she craved them all. It was a depression she knew very well; an old friend. Outside her apartment window raindrops gathered on the glass. She stained her lips with berry colored lipstick, and smiled briefly at herself in the mirror. A smile could change an entire day, so she smiled often. She combed through her beachy curls, which made them more voluminous. A text message lit up on her phone, which shone brightly in her boho chic bathroom. 

She sat in her therapist’s office on a Wednesday morning. The walls were grey, just like her thoughts. She looked down at her red toe nails and taupe wedges. She was feeling content, but restless. Thinking about him made her confused and lightheaded.

“It was always him. I still can’t think about anything else. My mind has become a vast ocean of thoughts about him. When I work, I find myself caught up in a steamy daydream,”  she exclaimed. She began to tear.

“Livvy, what’s wrong my dear?” The therapist questioned.

“When I don’t see him for a while I miss him. It was never the right time for us though, and he never gave me enough to jump. But, I regret not jumping every day.”

“Do you think he wanted you to jump?” 

“I’m not sure. I would’ve enhanced our adventure,” Livvy purred.

A smile spread across her face as she sent him a flirtatious message back. She was a mouthful, always. She met him out of the blue and she knew there was a reason. He ignited her wild heart and made her feel as free as a bird. When she seaked adventure and inspiration, she called him. 

“The moon was huge in the sky that night, and I danced wildly for him. He reached for my hand as I sipped on a small bottle of whiskey,” she continued, while remembering the night they finally had sex. The alcohol went straight to her pretty little head, and so did he. He was strong and overwhelming (in a good way). He was a man of few words, but his words were liquor to her. When he spoke to her and his serious eyes locked with hers, she could collapse. He inhaled her scent; she smelled like a night on the beach. The air was cool and stiff, but their attraction was on fire. She wore bohemian, loose pants, that accented her curves, and a black crop top. Her hair was down and wavy and her skin was kissed by the sun. She never forgot the way her hand fit in his, as he took her away that night.

“He led me silently to his bedroom. The hallway was dim, and his dog appeared by my leg. He wanted me and I wanted him. I wasn’t going to stop him from taking me. I kissed him sweetly. He pushed me down onto the bed, strongly. The pillows greeted me kindly and the white ceiling became my view. He slipped my baby blue thong off and my heart began to beat faster. A hardworking hand grabbed my hips and left a handprint. I moaned passionately as he made love to me, powerfully,” she sighed. 

“You love him. I can tell by the way your face brightens when you talk about him. It’s okay, you know…that you feel so strongly for him,” Livvy’s therapist commented. 

“I usually reach out to him first though, and I know I talk about us like we’re a striking novel, but we have so many missing chapters. I don’t think he really knows just how much I care about him,” Livvy said with bold eyes.

“You need to be honest with him Livvy…”

“What if he doesn’t care for me the way I care for him?” Livvy wondered out loud.

“You’re beautiful, creative, smart, and thrilling. I doubt very much there has ever been a guy who didn’t fall for you,” her therapist said honestly. Livvy smiled and bowed her head.

“If I’m honest with him I give away our complications, and maybe that is what’s so beautiful about him,” Livvy explained as her therapist took notes.

“Well, he will always be on your mind…”

“Yes he will, always,” Livvy whispered as she looked out the window at a single snowflake. She could feel the seasons change before her. It was poetic.

She didn’t see him as much as she used to, but when she did the stars aligned. Her mind became a tangled mess of feelings and thoughts. He planted himself deeper in her soul, without even realizing. Or, maybe he did realize. It was as she put it, complicated. She lived a life very much like her writing, and each event in her life was just another chapter written about. Even if he wasn’t magical to anyone else, to her he was. She packed away her pills and her demons and had a glass of Merlot. She sipped the wine slowly and leaned her head up against the wall. Her eyes rolled back and the worries in her heart melted away for a moment. 

Her phone screen lit up. There he was. 

“Do you want to come over?” He asked.

“Always,” she replied.