Chapter 3, So Tired of Being Alone

What if you fell hard for someone you barely knew? No, scratch that, what if you fell for someone without having met them at all?

Wishing Tree

Chapter 3: So Tired of Being Alone (BPOV)

I, Bella Swan, to this day, have not yet felt what it is like to be completely enslaved by love. Sure, I've felt that skipped heart beat at the glance of a cute guy, or the momentary butterflies in your stomach when some other cute guy texts you. But see - those emotions at those instances seem so fleeting. Just upon sleeping them off one night, I feel their effects fading away as if they have never happened. Like I said, I'm a realist... constantly fighting for my hopeless romantic side.

If only that spine tingling, goosebump feeling could last. Or if I could bottle that. Do those people you want to kick who have public displays of eating each others faces feel that on a constant basis? Either way, they're still friggin annoying, I think.

I'm not saying I hope to be enslaved by love in any way, shape or form - no, that sounds pathetic. I am certainly not the type of girl that needs to be in a relationship at all times just to be sane... but as John Mayer goes:

I'm tired of being alone, so hurry up and get here.

Oh, also, I hope whoever you are, you are around six feet in height and have very nice muscles. So nice that I'd like to pinch them.

A week had passed and I barely (okay, if I'm being honest, I completely didn't) remembered/thought of the note I had left for the reply to my not so anonymous flirtatious notes with E.C., so when I was back in the vicinity of the wishing tree courtyard, I just had to check it out, hoping against all odds that if he agreed to meet, I hadn't yet passed the date!

It was 6 p.m., I was dead tired, so I decided to grab myself a tall cup of coffee at Starbucks...before another meeting at 7 p.m. But then I remembered the courtyard and before I knew it, my feet led me to the same spot as I was standing in a week prior.

"I'm honored to meet you, Ms. Swan. I'm very happy you replied! I forgive you for being late. As for making it up to me, how do you say to keeping in touch sounds? - Cullen (9/29)"

"Crap," I mumbled to myself. Another late reply! But better late than never I suppose...so here goes...

"Apologies again, Mr. Cullen. But yes, I would like to stay in touch... hopefully through e-mail? Send me a note on 72567 if that's alright, but if I don't hear from you, I'll understand... we can just keep in touch here, too. Looking forward to this. -Swan (10/6)"

I don't know why, but I'm really excited about this. I'm pretty sure I look crazy smiling to myself, because I am, as I re-read my writing. I'm actually getting butterflies all over.

Or I'm just really bored in general that any small thing excites me. I really hope this isn't the case.

And with that, I ventured onto my meeting for 7 p.m. with a new client - some Mr. Whitlock or what not. See, it's fun being a blogger... I generally work from home. But that also means my schedule is all over the place...and I'm usually alone writing. Alone. By myself. With me.

People apparently like my interviews though, so I accept promotional gigs now and then and interview up and coming local young entrepreneurs so people can check out their insert-establishment-of-choice-here. It's pretty intense, I mean, I'd already interviewed some guy wanting to open up a smoke shop that also sells Victorian style dresses. He opened shop last week... and now he sent me a 2 dozen red rose bouquet as a thank you for the crazy hordes of people his shop has received. He's also mentioned about starting a coffee shop on the side, which I really think is an insane idea. But what can I say? I'm just the messenger. I'd like to fancy myself a positive and nice Gossip Girl. With less expensive shoes.

As I was entering this ultra hipster coffee shop called Intelligentsia Coffee, I just barely caught site of this guy with the nicest profile ever. Dark brown but still copper-ish looking hair, shaggy. Thick and long eyelashes I would kill for. Seriously, how is that fair? He's a guy! Ohh...and possibly six feet tall with impeccable muscle tone. I'm guessing on the last part, but I can definitely tell he isn't pudgy, just toned mildly so. He was leaving through the back entrance.

But those eyes. Even from his profile, I can tell they're a vibrant green. You know, like you can barely look into them because you feel like you'll freak out cause they're so...so..striking?

I wish I saw his face up front.

Oh yeah, I was walking. Damn you, pretty man upon profile view of your pretty eyes and physique.

"Hi, you must be Mr. Whitlock." I raised my hand to the nice young man with seemingly southern gentlemanly manners. How cute.

"Why yes, ma'am. I MUST be Jasper Whitlock... all the time, actually. Nice to meet you, Ms. Swan." Nice grin he had, relaxed.

I almost un-femininely laughed my ass off with a donkey guffaw, thankful for my good mouth filter. This meeting was looking good so far.

Author's note:

Sorry for the four year delay. ;) More soon, at a faster pace. Adieu, loves.