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I can’t get my life together and I am still in love with a man who is so many kinds of wrong for my life. It’s hard to care that he might be wrong for my life when my heart keeps begging me to be with him. Maybe it wouldn’t be that bad if I stopped fighting against what seems to be my destiny.
Tuomo is not giving up. Is that a sign for me?
I never did fully give myself to him. I always held back because of the fear of his family, his name and who he is. But he’s never hurt me. He has protected me. He’s kept me safe. And he’s never given up on me.
Out of every person I have ever met in my life he is the one who would be there for me no matter what. Isn’t that what every girl dreams of having?
I push my laptop closed and push it away from me, standing up off the highchair at my kitchen counter I stretch my arms above my head and yawn.
It’s not even lunch time and I want to sleep again.
On top of everything else, I am exhausted.
It’s as though the tiredness has crept into my bones.
I walk over to my bed and flop down onto it. My eyes are heavy and burning. I slept well last night, so I shouldn’t want to sleep now in the middle of the day.
I brush it away, I am stressed. I have this constant worry weighting down on my shoulders and I am terrified that my entire future is falling apart.
Stress does crazy things to the body and steals your energy in the blink of an eye. They call it the silent killer.
I just need to rest, let my body take its time to realize that I am ok - I’m not in danger - and Iwillfind a job.
Everything will be ok.
I remember standing in the alley way and telling Tuomo everything will be ok.
I can feel him right now, outside my window. Parked somewhere on my street with his eyes locked onto my window. He’s there. I know he’s there.
I fall asleep with thoughts of him drifting through my mind.
My body is rigid and aching when I wake up in the morning.
I thought a good night’s rest would help - but now the stress and anxiety has turned to nausea.
I lie in bed for a moment, trying to ignore it. The bright light of morning is pushing into my apartment and making me squint against the white glare of my ceiling. I groan and close my eyes, but my stomach knots and tightens so I sit up. I hate being stressed.
The wave of nausea gets worse, and, in a flash, I am running for the bathroom.
I make it just in time. Throwing up everything I ate last night. I lean over the toilet gasping for breath. When I think it’s over, Isit with my back against the cold tile wall with my eyes closed, breathing.
Dammit.
Everything is going wrong.
My eyes shoot open.
No. Fuck.
No.
It can’t be - can it? I am on the pill. I can’t get pregnant on the pill, can I?
I jump up and run to check my contraceptive medication.
I haven’t missed any of them - but when I count backwards on the pills. I see I’m late. I was supposed to start a week and a half ago but with everything going on I didn’t even realize. How in the world did I miss this?
Ok, but in all honesty, stress can make you throw up and be exhausted. I have seen people get violently ill from the stress of our final year at university.
