This story was inspired by a little spontaneous midnight jaunt of my own last weekend. Fuck. So if you’re reading this… Well… Yeah.
But I just wasn’t that kind of person.
I needed to know exactly what was going on at all times.
Down to the minute.
That was, until I met Jane.
She got under my skin and drove me crazy in a way I couldn’t even begin to understand.
So here I was, standing outside her apartment door in the driving snow and I didn’t know what I was going to say.
How did you explain that you’d had a feeling something bad was going to happen to someone you cared about deeply without sounding like a looney?
What the hell had possessed me to catch a train, bus and taxi all the way to her place in the sticks?
I told myself I didn’t care what happened to her anymore and yet the fact that I was here to warn her said the complete opposite.
It says you still love her, an annoying little voice sang in my head but I squashed it immediately.
There is NO WAY I still love her.
What she had done was unforgivable.
Yet here you are, it sang again.
I felt like I was going to vomit. My breathing was laboured and I knew I was going to hyperventilate.
Come on, ring the doorbell, the voice demanded. Stop being a fucking pussy. You came all the way out here, you can’t just give up because you’re freaking out. Have a backbone for once in your life.
As if controlled by a force other than my own, my trembling hand rose to the button and pushed.
Maybe I’d get lucky and she wouldn’t be home or at least, she would see who it was and not bother answering.
As I stared down at my shoes the door opened.
“Daniel, I’ve been waiting for you.”