His Entries #6

August 15th, 2016

Derek

Dear Journal,

I went out to eat with my friend and Jeff’s co-worker, Stacy, at Olive Garden this afternoon.

“How’s therapy going?” She asked while typing away on her IPhone 6 Plus.

“It’s going alright.” I studdered.

“Is he being an ass?” She rolled her eyes.

I placed both of my elbows on the table.

“Jeff is a good guy deep down.”

Stacy brought tension with her on a leash. I didn’t want confrontation, but I also didn’t want one of my best friends to loathe my boyfriend/potential husband.

“Jeff and Drew have been friends since 2nd grade. You can’t expect them to stop being friends because Drew met some guy that didn’t care that you two were dating.”

Stacy dropped her the fork to her salad. “Drew hooked up with my best friend at the time.” 

Her hair set itself on fire “It was the ultimate betrayal!”

The overly dressed customers stared at our table. Stacy was heavily breathing through her teeth as I cowered in fear. 

She brushed the crumbs off of her lap “But that was the past and I’m over it.” 

I apologized for bringing up the subject while staring at her with a gloomy expression. She used to be more upbeat and fun, where now, tense is her middle name. 

“You deserve better than Drew.” I reassured her pain.

“And you deserve better than Jeff.” She coldly responded.

As we continued to eat our meals, I felt this vague, familiar feeling. I missed Jeff. I wanted had this urge to go pick up some massage oil and spread it across Jeff’s beautiful body. Starting with the back of his neck, using my thumb and pointer middle finger to gently knead. Working my way down his spine and refreshing his sensitivity with running kisses up and down. Moving to his cheeks and playfully biting one to reclaim what’s mine. Then using both hands to brush his leg hairs down into a smooth stream. Feeling each muscle pulse and my heart pounding. Shifting down to his feet, massaging each one until he feels like he’s never walked on them. To finish up, aggressively grabbing his hair, pulling him into my bare chest, and gently rubbing his scalp. Tugging his hair to clear his mind. 

“Hello? Are we splitting the bill?” Stacy waved her manicured hand in my face.

I had lost my grip on reality. “Yes. Sorry.”

I had never felt so turned on eating Chicken & Shrimp Carbonara. 

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