Lost

  LOST

  SARAH ANN WALKER

  Copyright © 2014 1101 Sarah Ann Walker

  Cover Design: James Freeburg

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN: 0991723139

  ISBN-13: 978-0991723133

  This book is a work of fiction. Any reference to real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  DEDICATION

  To Jakkob

  Loving you has been the greatest gift of my life.

  You are my son and my reason to be better.

  I love you more than anything in this world, never forget that-

  Not that I’ll ever let you forget.

  xoxo

  Mommy

  To S. M.

  I never had the chance to tell you how I felt about you before you were lost.

  And I still miss you.

  CONTENTS

  Acknowledgments

  i

  Introduction

  Loved

  … and LOST

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  I want to thank my husband once again for the beautiful book cover.

  I want to thank my parents for giving me their support.

  I want to thank my sister Brennah and her children Zakkary, Piper-Ireland, and Teaghan for thinking their YaYa is pretty cool.

  I want to thank Paola for still being my best friend for a quarter of a century, and then some.

  Thank you Silvana for being my partner in crime.

  Thank you Brenda Belanger, my Boston Bruins Beauty.

  Thank you Chris Carmilia, for being the very first Blogger to read me.

  Thank you Deniro, Amy, Christina, Paula, Randi, Christina, Ann, Megan, Diane, Wendy, Joan, Sleepy, Jen, Stephanie, Diana, Darcy, Sandy, Katica, Crysti, Gladys, Michelle, Sam, Cori, Glenda, Diane, Dena, Lisa, Rosanna, Mark, Coach & Christine, Ashley, Doug, April, Laura, Suzy, Carla, Alanna, Michelle, Tracy, Melannie, Lou, Suzanne, Glenda, Michelle, Leisa, Retta,

  Lustful Literature, Triple M Books, Chris’ Book Blog Emporium, Mommy’s Naughty Playground, Twisted Sisters,

  & A Pair of Okies, to name a few...

  I want to thank all the readers and bloggers who supported me this last year. I wish I could name you all.

  Thank you Cheryl Shockley-Dent for being a constant, kind, patient friend to me this past year.

  And thank you Kim Rinaldi for being tough when I need it, for feeling bad afterward, and for always having my back when I’m neurotic.

  Sarah

  xo

  INTRODUCTION

  “Why are you in here, Sophie?”

  “Will you listen to me?”

  “Of course.”

  “Because you have to listen. You have to be patient and you have to wait for the whole story so you know why I'm here. I'm different than I used to be and you have to listen to what changed me. Can you do that?”

  “Of course I can.”

  “I hope so...”

  Breathing in deeply, I release the pain and I speak our story.

  “I saw him yesterday- The man I will always love.

  I saw him yesterday, and today I want my end.

  I saw him, and he looks as dead outside as I feel inside.

  I saw the man I love and he broke the final piece of my heart; the only piece that kept beating when everything else had died away with the absence of him.

  I saw him yesterday, and I too am now as dead outside as I am inside.

  But you have to know the quick and the slow that was our beginning to fully understand the agony of our end.

  There is no other way to show the depths of the end than to love the intense beauty of our beginning.

  We are both gone from this world, by choice and by circumstance.

  We are both dead, among the living...

  Oh, god. I can't take this pain anymore.”

  Loved

  CHAPTER 1

  I come from a very nice, ordinary family, with one twin brother and two loving parents. We are normal, from a good part of town, with just enough money to not struggle, but not enough money to be frivolous or carefree.

  As a foursome we are totally average, and yet my parents’ love is not average in the least. My parents have always loved each other whole- heartedly, and my brother and I have looked at our parents beautiful relationship with a kind of awe. They are amazing together, and because of their love we have always known what real love looks like.

  My brother and I have known love at its finest, and we even learned from our parents that you can argue or fight with each other but that you always loved each other regardless. We saw love when our parents kissed in the living room to end a fight before they rose to go to bed together. And we knew love when they simply smiled at each other among the chaos of 2 children around them.

  We knew my father’s words verbatim; “Never say anything bad to the person you love when you fight. Never call them a bad name in the heat of the moment, and never make them feel badly about themselves because those words stay forever. Even after the fight is over, your words will stay to hurt and haunt them forever.”

  So it was not uncommon for our parents to abandon us for a weekend once we were teenagers for what they liked to call, “Rejuvenating Us Time.” They would leave us with smiles and giggles, which of course made me and my brother gag when we realized they were actually going to get laid. They weren't exhibitionists though, nor did they imply they still had a sex life, it was just my brother and I couldn't help but see the look between them, or the head nod get upstairs now with a sly grin, or even the whisper before they both claimed to be very tired on a Friday night as they went to 'sleep' together early. Our parents tried for privacy, and my brother and I desperately tried to ignore what they may or may not be doing in their bedroom together.

  Over the years, as I watched the relationship between my mom and dad, I likened them to Tarzan and Jane, Barbie and Ken, or Cinderella and Prince Charming. I thought of them as normal in life but totally abnormal in love, which was something I truly admired growing up.

  My parents just had this thing- almost a tangible love that filled a room when they walked in. They didn't necessarily have overt displays of affection, but it didn’t matter. When they were in a room, you could feel the love that tethered them together. You could see the tie between them, and you could feel the life of love they shared with each other.

  My parents have always been amazing to me and my brother, and to each other. They are the ideal, and Steven and I have always looked for that ideal as we grew up.

  On a personal note, it should be said I have no monsters or demons in my past. There are no tragic secrets or hidden horrors in my young life. I was never abused or hurt, and nothing bad ever happened to me as I grew up. I was always just as I was; a good girl in a loving home with a nice life.

  I was always just straight-forward Sophie. I didn't lie or manipulate my surroundings, and I told my parents the truth about everything as they listened, advised, and guided me into adulthood.

  I don't remember my parents ever yelling or belittling me or acting disappointed in me, whether I disappointed them or not. If I made a mistake, they simply explained how I could do something differently, or they explained what they would have done differently, without me feeling chastised or punished. They spoke to me clearly, almost as an adult among them, until I learned to listen to their advice as an adult would, instead of behaving as a highly dramatic child being scolded would have behaved.

  My parents also gave me a certain amount of freedom growing up because I had earned it and kept it. When my curfew was finally lifted at 17 for example, I didn't push it.
I stayed within an hour of my previous curfew so they knew I was being responsible with my new freedom. And when I was given a car, I made sure I never drank and drove, drove like a teenage lunatic, or crashed my car being stupid. I didn’t screw up, which allowed me to continue earning the trust of freedom they gave me.

  I was allowed the freedom to grow, within undefined guidelines, and I was thrilled for this room to grow. Steven was given the same freedoms as me, but as soon as he screwed up they were taken away from him, until a set amount of time passed and he seemed responsible enough to be given his quasi-adult freedom again.

  Essentially, Steven and I learned and lived to grow and mature responsibly because of our wonderful parents. They gave but expected maturity and growth in return, and Steven and I loved to be all that they believed we could be because they gave us the freedom to live and learn.

  My mom and dad gave to us until we screwed up, and I loved this way of living because it made me always want to be better. I didn't fear what might be taken away from me, instead I strived for what I might gain by trying harder. It made me want to always be better, and live better, and try harder. It made me want more from my comfortable life.

  Sadly, Steven was a little slower understanding this, but then again he was a boy, and everyone knows girls are much more mature than boys at that age. Eventually Steven caught on though, and he strived to be more as well.

  Of course I had some issues, just not the typical teenage kind. I didn't act like an idiot over boys, begging and crying, or fawning over them for attention. I never acted like a drunken tart, crying and dramatizing nothing moments into cataclysmic events. I never acted like an insecure moron with boys as a teenager, or with men as an adult. I loved but I didn't settle because I decided early on whether consciously or not that I would never settle for less than the love I wanted.

  I had known and watched true love my whole life with my parents, so I always knew what I wanted, and I lived my life with an understanding of the kind of love I desired. Therefore, no drama was necessary.

  I loved until I would wake up and realize that I needed or wanted more from my boyfriend, though I did try to make it work for a while before I left. In my relationships I put forth the effort needed, and I was a good girlfriend until I knew it wasn't enough. I loved them for as long as I could, but I moved on when the reality of the need or the desire for more surfaced, and then I left.

  I'm not talking about needs, like the need for things or stuff though because I didn’t need things from men. I mean a deeper need for more within the love we shared, because realistically I've always been very self-sufficient, so if there was something I wanted I worked hard for it. If I wanted to own something, I worked until I could buy it. These physical objects of desire didn't make me run from my boyfriends, I left when my internal needs surfaced.

  When there was something missing, or a need or want within the relationship as the relationship, that's when I moved on. I left when I knew I wasn't completely in love with them, or when the relationship lacked something for me. Over time, I studied the relationship in its entirety and acted accordingly, so if I was unsettled I didn't settle. If I felt the need to flee, I fled, and I was always good at this. My leaving a relationship was like a gift I had- an ability to leave any relationship well.

  Every single relationship I've ever had, from the easy dating to the intense couplings were ended by me, and ended in a way that my boyfriends always wanted to stay friends with me. I knew how to make a man feel special, which in turn made him want to make me feel special.

  I didn't necessarily manipulate them, and I wasn't conniving, I just knew what they wanted to feel, so I made them feel it. Some wanted to seem strong, so I played up my small stature for them, and some wanted to be cared for, so I was more nurturing toward them. And because I have always been able to read men, I also knew when it was the right time to leave them. I had 3 serious relationships before I was 24 and they all ended the same, with friendship and respect.

  When I was a teenager Darren was the first 'love of my life'. He was everything I wanted from a boyfriend; actually he was everything every girl I knew wanted as a teenage boyfriend. Darren was athletic and handsome and caring, and the first love of my life until I matured and realized he wasn’t my forever kind of man.

  My second long term relationship in University with Derek was pretty much the same for me emotionally as my relationship with Darren. I was invested on the surface, but I think I always knew we would end.

  Derek and I loved each other as we grew together into adulthood. We even ended up living together off campus, until I left him a year and a half later when I again realized he wasn’t going to be what I wanted in a partner long term.

  And finally, my third major relationship was with Joseph, who was a nice and loving man though he had a few hang ups and lots of baggage. He was significantly older than me, so he had already had an adult life before me. He already had an ex-wife, 3 teenage children, and a career, to my nothing yet.

  He was nice and loving and he treated me very well, but after one innocent conversation between us about the future, I realized he was done with his future, whereas, I was just starting mine.

  I was 24 to his 44 and I wasn't done with life yet because I still wanted a future the way I imagined it. I wanted a husband, and a home, and a child of my own. I wanted things, but Joseph wanted us as we were, static in our relationship. Joseph was content with where he was, but I was discontent with where I wasn't. So I ended our relationship with his friendship, support and understanding.

  As I said before, I have ended all my relationships but I was never mean or bitchy, and I never demanded things or held grudges. I just knew when it was time to end it, and I always ended my relationships while they still loved me enough to let me go when I asked. There was never any resentment or hostility from my boyfriends when we broke up, though there were sometimes tears and promises for more, but I didn't give in, so they accepted the end for what it was- I needed more, and I needed to move on.

  When we were together I gave them what they needed always. I was loving and innocent with Darren, fun and friendly with Derek, and mature and worldly with Joseph. I became whatever role it was they needed from me, but I never played the role of a woman with needs, until I left them.

  When I hit the wall that told me I was done trying for them, I would finally wake up and stop playing. It was when I saw my future again clearly, that I walked out of their lives for a life for myself. It was then that I left them for myself, because I needed to. But I gave them everything to make them happy when we were together, and that's why they always let me leave as friends. I had never hurt them until I left, so they couldn't be mad at me when I left.

  Inevitably, I would wake up to my needs and to the life I wanted, see their complete absence from my future life, and I would leave once and for all. And that was the pattern of my life until I was 24 years old.

  CHAPTER 2

  After I broke up with Joseph, I moved into a cute little apartment not far from downtown, but on the safer side. It was a walk-up and I was on the ground floor with a view of the side garden from all my windows on the left and a view of the open driveway on my kitchen side. It had hardwood floors and built in wall shelves and bookcases. It even had wide window ledges for plants and a beautiful original marble fireplace and mantle, converted to an electric fireplace for safety, which lost very little of its charm due to the modernization.

  I loved my apartment immediately, and on any given night you could see yuppies pushing a baby buggy, or drunk University brats walking around the baby buggies on their way to the bars and clubs. You heard music and saw lights everywhere but never loudly or obnoxiously, it was more like a constant hum and lightness in the air.

  I could walk out my front door to the most amazing cafes or find the best super market hidden behind rustic looking doors. There was absolutely nothing garish in my neighborhood, from the art galleries, cafes, pubs, vintage stores, and bars, to t
he people who lived within in. There were rich professionals and poor students, old Volkswagens parked in front of brand new Jaguars, and everything in between.

  Once I was settled in walking around the neighborhood to investigate, I felt like I fit within the village. I was single among many singles and there was very little to be afraid of because the area was always active, so I felt single among many.

  I did see a homeless man leaning against a wall moaning, covered in dirt once, but otherwise, there was nothing overtly bad around my new neighborhood.

  I was a 24 year old, finished her schooling, looking for the perfect career opportunity in her new home. I had travelled some with Joseph while I worked as a waitress looking for my career, and I was finished with my partying twenties, looking forward to my future among new IKEA furniture and herbs in my kitchen window.

  I reacquainted myself with a few friends in my new singlehood because like most people in a relationship I couldn't help but be less visible to my girlfriends. But once single again, I quickly reacquainted and re-engaged in their lives, becoming close again to my friends as we picked up where we all left off effortlessly.

  I still waitressed, went for job interviews and waited for the career I could sink my teeth into forever, but I had enough savings to furnish my new home, albeit cheaply, while I lived off my tips for the day to day stuff like food and coffee.