The Holly Dates

by Brittainy C. Cherry

I traveled with novels the same way people traveled with their vape pens—glued in my hands. Imagine being in an awkward situation and you didn’t have something to occupy your hands with. Books had saved me multiple times on the city buses. You’d be shocked at how many times I’d escaped into reading during unpleasant commutes around the city. Novels saved millions of people from uncomfortable situations.

“Don’t do that, Holly,” I whispered, lacing my hands together in my lap. “Don’t do what?” “Read the parts of my book that I don’t share with people.” “It’s a good book, Kai. I wish you’d let me read it all.”

I knew loneliness inside and out, how it worked, how it mocked, and how it burned one’s soul and almost forced individuals to stay where they no longer belonged because they were so terrified of being alone.

how he made me feel safe when my thoughts did the opposite.

“Yeah, well…what can I say? You make me believe in fairy tales.”

“That’s the problem with trauma. Those who inflict it aren’t the ones who have to do the unpacking to heal from it.”

You weren’t that young, and you’ve never been stupid.”

“Because you’re everything. You’re the sun, you’re the moon, you’re the stupid snowman in someone’s front yard with the stupid crooked carrot smile. You’re every good day and every crappy night and every in-between mundane afternoon. So I’m sorry, you can’t choose to leave me. It’s not an option. Do whatever you have to do to get past this. Be pissed at me. Ghost me for a day or two. Cuss me out and shove me around, but don’t leave me, Holly, please.” My voice cracked as I stepped closer to her. “Because if there is no you, then there is nothing.”

Just because someone loved you to their highest ability didn’t mean they deserved to have you or knew how to treat you right.

Reassurance would be necessary; patience would be a prerequisite.