2.

2.
 
Coping with the cold came easily now that I found solace in my writing again. I dwelled in my own personal cocoon; my house shielding me from the winter’s icy grip.
The days turned into weeks of the constant routine of writing, eating, sleeping and regular bathroom intervals. I abandoned the world outside as the narrative filled my brain, spreading a word-fever to my senses and out through my fingertips. It was a raging ecstasy.
Joseph and Kate were my life now; the enigma of Joseph’s world and what would become of their forbidden love depended on me. Will Kate allow her life threatening illness to take its course and die as a mortal among family and friends? Or will she follow her heart through the portal and embrace immortality with her one true love.
Weeks passed by with utmost dedication to The Journey; I had written all but the ending where I came to a moot point. My subconscious would create several interpretations when I’m trying my hardest not to think of it, because the truth was that I didn’t want to think of it; I didn’t want it to end. I was selfish. What if this never happens to me again and this is my one hit wonder; my first and only novel. I can’t go back to the wreck I was last month… I can’t… I just can’t.
I pressed my palms to the desk and pushed my chair away from the computer. When it came to love, I must say that I was very inexperienced, after only being in love once; well at least I thought it was love when I shared two years of my life with Evan, but after finding him in a supermarket parking lot making out with my, at that time, best friend Anna and not feeling anything; not hatred or rage or jealousy… nothing. I thought maybe at our prime there was love, love did mature, but I guess for some it wilts and fades, and that’s what happened with us.
It has been a year and a half since I last saw Evan. I think of him at times though, especially when I make lasagne, it was his favourite; I try not to make it as much anymore. I am now facing the year of my twenty-fourth birthday and I had yet to find my true love; though I’m not in a hurry, it would be nice to have someone to share a warm hug, a toe curling kiss and the first I love yous.
But there is the one person who visits my dreams occasionally, but for the past few weeks has taken residence. I have not gone into unconsciousness once in the last month without his face bobbing like a buoy on the surface of my dreams. I had expert experience with unrequited love; there was always the one guy you fall head over feet for and he never sees you. Not once does he hear your heart cry or feel remorse when you’re the only single in a room filled with couples. Of course the pitiful one shoulder hug and pat on the head definitely eradicates the heart into thinking maybe, maybe it could happen, maybe if you confess your undulating love that he may feel the same and take you in his arms like you always imagined. Your heart races, pores tingle, palms sweat and a lump the size of a grapefruit gets wedged in your throat. You get all hyper at the thought of his reaction; would he? Could he?
But unfortunately life doesn’t work that way for some; it’s never that easy. We are the ones who have to keep nursing our hearts after every fall; sometimes you wonder if it would ever heal again and if it would be strong enough to ever love again. And of course it always surprises you when your chest convulses when the most gorgeous guy compliments you in a polite way and you immediately think, maybe; and the cycle begins again only for the unbearable heartache to follow course.
Then when your time finally comes and you get the response you’ve always wanted and you think your journey has finally ended and you’re going to spend the rest of your life with this one person, it falls to the gutter when he cheats on you and you don’t even care. Was that love? Could that have been my soul mate?
I don’t particularly believe in soul mates, well not that much anymore, not since I was a teenager when I would picture him, the one made for me, would come rescue me; my prince on a white horse, graceful and gorgeous, ready to steal me away and we’d live happily ever after. Those fantasies were long gone since my futile attempt at dating after my relationship with Evan. I always meet the weirdest guys and there’s never that spark that carries you to the moon and back. So I gave up after five tries; I thought maybe I should give it a chance to happen on its own.
Sometimes… well more than sometimes, everyday really I think of love and meeting someone someday and I’ve come up with a few theories. I think that you can meet someone and fall in love and that person would blind you from all others of the opposite sex. That you would never question if there was someone else that you passed by but never paid attention to, and maybe he could have been the one chosen for you; but then again I don’t believe in soul mates, so maybe I will come across this one guy while shopping or having a cup of tea at The Hot Sip who knows, maybe it’s written in the cards or maybe it’s not written at all and love is blind and you’re put here to search and sample till you find the right one. It’s like shopping for a dress; you have an idea of what you want, the design, the colour, but you are distracted by hundreds of other fabrics, colours and styles and you try on various ones, completely different from what you intended. Then when none of them seems right and forms your body in a weird way, you give up and decide to get something to eat instead. But on your way to the place where the food results in your thighs and butt to grow to improper proportions, you are stopped in your tracks by a dress even better than you imagined flaunted in a showcase. You’re dazzled and when you try it on, you smile; it fits just right.
 
Adam Walker; a movie star, of course, my heart does know how to pick them. One of the most eligible bachelors in England, and me, a nobody; a children’s writer from Guildford, Surrey who had been living a non-existent life for the past two months trying not to finish her dream of writing a novel because she was a coward.
 
I got up and walked to my kitchen. I was angry at myself for not giving Kate and Joseph the life I had always dreamed; the life of unconditional love. I took out the frying pan out of the cupboard, slamming it on the stove and lighting the burner. I cracked two eggs into a bowl with some salt and pepper and scrambled it with a fork adding a splash of milk. The hammer dug the nail deeper into my temple as I whipped, cracking it open with every hit.
Their faces revolved in my head; Kate with her eyes wide searching in the dark for Joseph, who was standing on a cliff contemplating; waiting. My heart contracted as a swollen tear ran down Kate’s cheek; I had to finish it.
I looked down at the granite, the egg mixture had erupted spreading scattered drops of pale yellow, I gasped and grabbed the Lysol wipes and quickly cleaned it up. I turned down the burner and threw the rest of the egg mixture into the pan, which hissed loudly and emitted a fume of smoke that made me jump back. I turned off the burner and moved the eggs around with a spatula till it curdled, then I plated it, grabbed a fork and gobbled down the sustenance to fuel me for a happy ending.
 
​The phone rang waking me from my coma-like slumber. I immediately regretted reconnecting my phone line. I groaned as the ringing continued forcing my eyes to unglue and look at the clock. Who would be calling at seven in the morning? I reached for the cordless and pressed talk. “Hello,” I said in a thick voice.
   “Iris? Did I wake you?” I rolled my eyes. Stephanie knew I usually wake at midday as I only write at night.
   “Hey Steph, no I’m up,” I said and I pulled the covers off me and swung my legs off the bed. My toes touched the floor and it was surprisingly warm. I looked around and realised that my room was lit much brighter than it was yesterday. I turned and stared at my drapes and a gold beam squeezed through a crease sending a shock of excitement through my body; the sun was out. It hadn’t snowed in two weeks but the weather was still cold as the sun was hidden behind a mass of clouds. It had finally come; it was over a month late by the weatherman’s prediction but it was finally here.
I stood up causing a rush of blood to my brain, and skipped to my window and pushed open the drapes. There it was, the golden disc hovering bold and bright in the clear blue sky. I opened my window and a light breeze brushed my face. I closed my eyes and inhaled the warmth that touched my pale skin; it penetrated my pores and reverberated into my soul.
   “… They loved it! Iris… Iris, did you hear me?” The singing in my ears diminished as clarity took over. I had forgotten about Stephanie in all my fervour.
   “I’m sorry Steph, I was praising the sun. What did you say?” I propped my elbows on the window sill and opened my eyes.
   “They… I mean we love it. I sometimes forget that I’m also your editor and not just your friend, but anyway, we love it…congratulations Hun!” Steph’s squeal made my ear hurt and my cheeks burn or I must have been beaming a grandeur smile. My knees went suddenly weak and my butt hit the floor before I had realised what had happened.
   “Oh my God,” I hissed. My brain was finally in coordination with my body; my breaths came in short gasps as my hyperventilation kicked into high gear.
   “I know love; your dream is finally becoming reality… we should celebrate… how bout we meet up at…” Steph’s voice was overshadowed by the pounding of my heartbeat in my ear drums.
   “Um… yes… definitely,” I wasn’t sure what I was agreeing to. All I could think of was the smell of a new book… the complacent feeling that overpowers your soul as you flip through the freshly printed pages of binded literature. I was swimming in a pool of immense content.
​I dropped the phone from my ear as the continuous beeps of the broken line alerted me. I would have to call Steph back later to replay all the celebratory planning’s I had missed.
 
My mind still couldn’t wrap around the details of Steph’s words, and after two months, as we sat at a table outside The Hot Sip discussing my next tiny venture, our coffee cups half emptied, it still hadn’t registered.
I had books that had been published before, but nothing of this proportion. Everything had happened so fast since that early phone call, which seemed like only yesterday; my three hundred and ninety-six page book was in the process of publication and I was to receive the first copy in my hands in a couple of days. The anxiety was catching up with me and I rubbed my temples with the tips of my fingers while Stephanie babbled on about book signings and tours, which she insisted I should take seriously after my immature groans of being publicised.
   “I really don’t mind the travelling and stuff, but why can’t I stay in my shell and you can do all the work for me,” I teased when she finally broke after five minutes of vocal procession.
   “Stop being such a baby. Something good has happened to you. Your first novel is being published and you’re whining,” she said, sounding just like my parents did when I told them the good news; that phone call couldn’t have been longer.
   “I’m not whining, it’s just a lot to take in. The feeling of being a grown up has taken over with all this hoopla. You never put me through this before.” I scrunched my face as I looked up at her.
   “Would you stop it. I’m doing what’s best for your book and its future readers; it’s going to be a hit Iris! And it’s not that different than your last tour, in fact it’s better, you get to travel the country and the U.S. Maybe you might even meet a guy to fill that void,” she pointed at my heart and winked. I rolled my eyes at the notion.
   “There won’t be any time for that. I just want all this to be done with so I could bury myself in my writing again.” Steph shook her head at my incomprehensible words and continued to drink her coffee. We finished our brunch talking about frivolous details like clothes, shoes and the weather but without another word about the book. I felt guilty; I knew she had worked really hard planning the tour and everything else, and after wrestling her for the bill, I had decided to suck it up and go along with anything she planned without my self-indulgent arguments. She paid the bill and as we hugged and went our separate ways to our cars, I prepared myself for a long month.