And the update you've all been waiting for...


The next morning, I woke up to the perfect sunrise. Normally, I hate being awakened at seven in the morning, but today I made an exception. The sun came breaking through the white lacy curtains on the window, creating an unreal mirage of soft light spilling in the room.

Oh yeah. Definitely perfect.

I lie there in bed, hoping that this moment will last forever. I close my eyes and let my mind wander. But, like always, I think of Marcus. And then I think of our little phone call last night. And the other person there with him...

Moment ruined.

I get up slowly from my nest of blankets and start making the bed. When I'm done with that, I sweep up the room and pick up the clothes on the floor. I was never a neat freak. I just have a bad habit of using cleaning as a way to relax when I'm stressed. It worked as I washed the dishes. And when I was doing laundry. If someone would've walked in while I was in maid mode and asked me how I was feeling, I would've felt a huge grin spread across my face.

But no one did walk in. And, eventually, I ran out of things to clean. So there I was, sitting on the couch in a house that wasn't mine, eating chocolate mint ice cream and watching Oprah re-runs. At the halfway mark of the ice cream jar, I realized what I was doing: Feeling sorry for myself.

What? Me? Sitting around and moping? No way.

But how else could I explain what I was doing?

Upon this great epiphany, I fixed myself up a little (my hair was a mess), wrote a little note for Mari that told her I would be back soon, and walked out the front door. First thing I notice: It's sunny. The kind of sunny that you see in those Hollywood movies and think, 'I wish I lived there'. A light breeze lingered, undecisively spinning around fallen leaves from the trees.

Perfect. So why don't I feel perfect?

And that's when I see a black pickup parked not too far away from me. There's a blonde girl in the passenger seat, maybe my age. But it's who's behind the wheel that gets my attention.

It's Marcus.

They're talking, don't overreact Kristy, they're just talking, I reassure myself. But then, he starts getting closer to her...and she leans in...and before I know it, they're so tightly intertwined, that I can't tell who's feeling on who.

The sight makes me stop. Literally. Which probably wasn't the best idea considering I was crossing the street...

Luckily, the guy who was about to run me over stopped just in time. An inch away from my death and I still couldn't get my eyes off of the couple groping in the black pickup. At this moment, I wish I had gotten run over. Compared to the feeling of my heart breaking, that wouldn't have hurt as much.

And I stood there, in the middle of the street, the people in the cars yelling at me to move, and someone was crying. It took me a while to realize the sobbing I was hearing was my own.