I’ve had a few serious relationships, all ending horribly, and one actually stealing money from me. It’s like I have “walk all over me” tattooed across my forehead that only the real douchebags can see.
Travis just left on deployment, and even though I could call him to get his side of the story, I know I don’t need to. I’ve had multiple people tell me they thought he was cheating on me, but I didn’t want to believe them. I liked living with blinders on; as long as he gave me the illusion our relationship was a good one. That was all I needed to keep my dream alive that he wasthe one.
The one. Ha! What does that even mean?
In my life, it correlates to the one who cheated, the one who drank too much, the one who was a slob, the one who had terrible breath, and now, the one who got the other girl pregnant when he told me over and over again he never wanted kids.
I want kids, and I was willing to give up my dream for that piece of shit.
No more.
I’m done being a doormat to any guy who pays me attention.
Frustration rises to the top with a new Jenelle peeking her head through, ready to be a new person.
Laced with my new fuck-it attitude, I pick up my phone to call Layla, determined to change my life and for once, live for me, not the person I think everyonewantsme to be.
Layla’s been my friend since I transferred to Travis Air Force Base four years ago. Yes, I dated Travis who is stationed at Travis Air Force Base. He thought that was pretty cool. I should have known he’d be a total douche then.
She’s not in the military but was born and raised in the area so I need her to take me somewhere different, somewhere away from this military town. I’m done dating anyone in the military and just want to have fun in the civilian world for once.
After making plans for later tonight, I rid my apartment of anything Travis related, throwing it in the trash before heading to work, ready for a new day and a new me, without men.
* * *
“Damn girl, look at that hair,” Layla says after I open the door to my apartment.
At work, dress code says my hair must be tucked back in a low, tight bun and more often than not I leave it that way. Not tonight though.
When I got home, I pulled it loose and could style it since it was still wet from my morning shower. Now my long, light-brown hair is flowing down my back in soft curls.
“Thank you, it still feels weird having it down like this,” I state, running it through my fingers.
In an atmosphere full of men at work, it feels good to get away and be who I want to be, not who I’m supposed to be.
Layla and I head to Sacramento to a downtown dance club. All I want is to let loose tonight and dance with my girl.
Music bounces through my chest as we walk into the club, filling my veins with sounds of freedom. We came to Sacramento so I wouldn’t know anyone, and I could have a good time without a care in the world.
As an Officer, I have to hold a certain level of professionalism, and sometimes, it’s all too much. I just want to be a normal female, and my getaway is dancing.
There’s nothing better than being on that dance floor, letting the music guide me. That’s where I’m the woman I want to be. I can close my eyes, letting the rhythm dictate how I move, how I feel, even how I breathe. It’s a freedom I only feel here and crave more than men, coffee, or even chocolate.
After a few songs, we head to the bar to gather our drinks and catch our breath.
A guy from the corner of the room catches my eye, but I quickly look away, reiterating in my head I’m not here to meet anyone. Unfortunately, I didn’t look away fast enough, and he’s heading this way.
Ugh! Why can’t a girl just hang out without feeling like she’s being hunted all the time?
“Hey there,” I hear over my shoulder.
I don’t look his way; instead, I throw my hand over my shoulder in response telling him to go away. “Not interested. Keep moving along.”
“I’m sorry, who are you talking to?” he says in response.
I turn to him, and I’ll admit, he’s a good-looking guy, but I’m not interested. “You. I’m here with my girl, not looking to hook up with anyone tonight.”
“Well, good to know, but I was talking to the bartender standing behind you who’s a good friend of mine.”
