Total pages in book: 148
Estimated words: 135517 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 678(@200wpm)___ 542(@250wpm)___ 452(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 135517 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 678(@200wpm)___ 542(@250wpm)___ 452(@300wpm)
If I could, I would’ve driven out of my life; that’s how bad I felt. Working on the album had helped alleviate some of the pain, but now that it was over and my creative juices had been depleted for the next little while, I felt drained.
I thought the tour was a good idea that it would get me out of my head a little. But now that it was looming up ahead, I was no longer sure. I wanted to be here in case we ran into each other. I just needed something, some part of her. And though her album had gotten me through the last few months, it was no longer enough.
I pulled over at one of our favorite spots looking down at the city. It’s not as amazing during the daytime, but at least it was somewhere we’d been together. I can’t do this for much longer; I feel like I’m going out of my fucking mind, and there’s no one and nowhere to turn to escape this pain that seems to be getting worst instead of better with time.
***
*Elena*
“Oh shit! I’m so nervous. Why did I think this was a good idea?” I wiped my sweaty hands on my thighs and tried to stay calm. The last thing I need is to have my blood pressure spike. Doing the documentary had been therapeutic; I can’t deny that, but now that it was about to be released for the whole world to see, I was having second thoughts.
How will people see me now? Will they pity me? Turn on me? How will it be received? And why did I ever think that it was a good idea to bear my entire soul to the world? “It’s going to be fine. Everyone said it was amazing.” Rachel sat slouched in the chair across from me, her eyes glued to the screen of her phone.
“Yeah, but they’re paid to say that.” Then again, if I bomb, it wouldn’t be so good for them either. I wish Ryder was here. Wait, what? Where the hell did that random ass thought come from? It’s been years since I thought of him in that way or in any way, for that matter.
Why now? Why am I missing him so much these days? Ever since I started down this path, he’s been ever present on my mind. I know it’s partly because he’s been there for so many of my firsts. He was the one who held my hand through my worst and best times, so I guess it’s only natural for my brain to go there.
I’m almost certain that my anger at him had eased not just with time but with this project I’d just concluded. Bearing my soul not only exposed my inner reality but also forced me to look at Ryder and the truth about who he was and was.
It was hard to come to terms with the fact that he was and still is my one true love. It was even harder to accept that I may never love anyone else the way I love him. It’s as if I’d given my all to him and our relationship, and there were only parts of me left to give to anyone else.
I’d got the best of him and he of me, I know that now, but something had gone very wrong, and I’m still no closer to knowing what that is. Another good thing about this project is that it taught me to let go. I’d put it all down on paper, then record it in front of cameras to share with the world.
I held nothing back because it was the only way I knew how to get the poison out of my system. After tonight I won’t look back.
***
*Ryder*
I was on tour when I first heard about her documentary. It wouldn’t have mattered what the subject matter was about; as long as I got to see her, I’d have watched paint dry. “When the fuck did all of this happen? What am I looking at?” I think I had my first real clarity sitting on that tour bus watching her show than I’d had since I became a so-called star.
But none of what she was saying made sense. Who the fuck bullied her? No one would even dare with me by her side. That’s just it, asshole. You weren’t there. That only made the whole thing worse. I watched it three times before things became clearer, and I made a snap decision.
“How long of a break do we have between cities?”
“A couple of days. Why?”
“I need to make a detour.”
“Where to?”
I started to answer, but something held my tongue. I don’t know why but something told me not to say a word of truth.
He tried to look at my computer screen, but I closed it just in time because her image was still there on pause. “Nowhere in particular; I just have a taste for this thing I haven’t had in a while.” From the way he smiled at me, I knew he thought I was talking about drugs.