Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 85725 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 429(@200wpm)___ 343(@250wpm)___ 286(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85725 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 429(@200wpm)___ 343(@250wpm)___ 286(@300wpm)
Doctor’s offices are one thing I didn’t miss, and over the past few weeks, I’ve been to more than my fucking share. And you know what? It’d be nice to get a little credit where credit is due. I’m pretty fucking healthy, all shit considered. Plus, I’m disease free, which for the record is impressive shit considering the less than safe self-medicating methods I used in the beginning of my forced relocation for living.
“And I trust Dr. Giambrone’s recommendation of Dr. McMahan who you seemed to have a good first session with! I have no doubt that the medication you’ve started to take will do its part in helping you with your condition, it’s just that…”
Her trailed off statement has me gently nudging her with my foot. “Just that what, sweetheart?”
“It’s just that…,” the heavy sigh that escapes shakes her entire frame, “while I was in the waiting room I couldn’t help but notice all the literature they had lying around for both adults and children. The way the practice is split to cater to both types of patients I think is brilliant, especially when both parents and kids need to go, but I kept thinking and wondering were there illustrated books on the subject to help the younger ones understand what therapy is. And why they shouldn’t be afraid. And why talking about your feelings is okay. And why having feelings is okay. And that there doesn’t have be to be a stigma around getting help. And how mental health matters no matter your age or financial state or race. I couldn’t stop thinking about creating a fun, educational tool that projected these things in an easy way they could relate to that would also allow their parents to discuss it.”
This time I let a small smile slide onto my expression. “You found inspiration while waiting for me.”
“I mean…sort of?” Her awkward cringe I can’t get enough of makes a predicted appearance. “I also got an idea while picking up your meds to do a book about pharmacist since there are a billion books on doctors, but I don’t know. I just…shouldn’t I know by now? What I wanna write?”
“Is this an actual question or are you being rhetorical?” My arms fold firmly across my Alice in Chains t-shirt we got from the thrift store last weekend. “You know I don’t like not being able to distinguish the two. That’s how I end up saying something fucked up. That’s how I end up accidentally hurting you and you know how much I really fucking hate that.”
My people skills are…improving; however, they’re still not good enough to decipher if she really wants to know if something looks good on her or if she’s just brainstorming out loud and I should keep my mouth shut. Oh, don’t give me that fucking look. She looked Tweety Bird in that sweater and not in a cute way. I didn’t know I wasn’t supposed to say that out loud!
Jaye sweetly beams up at me. “Yes, Archer. I would like some actual feedback right now. And preferably not from my mom because her texts about just giving up to take on another hobby are starting to sound really, really good to me.”
For fucks sake, I swear that woman lives to make her child a nervous wreck.
“You’re not a quitter, Jaye.” The statement is given in a firm tone. “That’s not who you are. And that’s not the woman you ever wanna be, so first and fucking foremost, put that bullshit out of your mind.”
She sheepishly nods.
“More importantly, stop putting so much pressure on yourself. You don’t need it. This project is all about what you wanna contribute to the world of literature. A world you love. And however you choose to do that, with whatever topic you choose to put on paper, is going to be right because it’s coming from a place of passion. Loyalty. Love.”
Seeing the flicker of a smile pushes me to add more.
“I won’t tell you what to write, sweetheart or what you ‘should’ be writing. I will simply support the notion of you doing it and give you useful feedback on what you create. From what I know…the more you ramble about something, the more passionate about it you tend to be. Maybe that should be your guiding light going forward.”
My girlfriend takes a small bite out of her bottom lip while bouncing her head from side to side.
“And who knows. Perhaps having a real creative space to work on this book may help get the juices flowing.”
“When you’re around, they’re always flowing.”
The double pump of her eyebrows not only receives a chuckle, it causes my entire face to redden.
No, we’re not fucking yet, but God do I love everything else we’ve been up to. I’ve been coming so often and so hard lately my balls literally ached. I was…lowkey grateful we had to pump the breaks for a couple days at the beginning of the week due to her period – which she insists means all of sexyland shuts down – because I needed the breather. Don’t get me wrong. Finger fucking and mouth banging her until she’s screaming my name at the top of her lungs are two of my favorite things in the entire world, but I’ve been out of the game a minute. I lack the fucking stamina I once had in the sack. Need to perfect that shit before we get into bed, you know? Plus…we’re not really in a bed together. She has hers. I have mine. And when we sleep together, which is happening more and more often, it’s done on the couch or the floor beside the couch. We should probably deal with our sleeping arrangements before our fucking ones, don’t you think?