It first crosses her mind somewhere between the minutes before falling asleep and being asleep. And it is such a small thought, such a minor realization compared to all the monumental things a person could discover. It is not the cure for a disease. It is not the way to stop all wars.
It is just a brief, but true, thought and she barely catches it as it flashes through her brain.
Like sheep over a fence, this tiny revelation lulls her to slumber and she forgets about it the next day. She allows it to sit, unnoticed, in the part of her mind that isn't ready just yet and in the pieces of her heart that will someday bust wide open.
Being near her is one of the best feelings I've ever had.
This thought crosses Marissa's mind and then it is gone again.
/ /
She isn't quick to get close to someone. Of course, once she does cross that line, it is hard for her to let go and let things be. Feast or famine – that is the nature of her world. And she should probably learn how to balance these impulses; she should be easier to approach in the first place and she should be stronger when it comes to ending relationships, too.
But she blames the past for these personality flaws because you learn about life and how to manage those choppy waters by those around you. You look up with young eyes and figure out what love means, what anger means, what it means to hide things from yourself.
And Marissa did just that.
She learned that love is like a slap to the face – shocking and sudden and just a little bit painful. She learned that anger is like an ocean wave – you can hear it from a mile away and you can see it coming and it can take you over… it can take you under as well.
She learned about hiding, too.
Hiding tears that just want to fall or hiding disappointment with a laugh, Marissa took this lesson to heart. She has followed this lesson without even realizing the extent of her proficiency in doing so.
That's why, when Bianca Montgomery says 'I'm attracted to you' in some paid-for room at some resort, it's like someone throwing off the blankets during wintertime. There is a part of Marissa that wants to gasp at the quickness of it all; there is as part of her that wants to scramble and cover her body back up.
But it is not homophobia rearing its ugly head. It is not the sting of judgment or discomfort coursing through Marissa's blood when these tiny letters and syllables hit her ears.
No, it is only the rush of hidden things coming to startling light.
/ /
A memory resurfaces and, once more, she isn't asleep when she should be. There's the steady inhale and exhale of J.R. beside her; there is the way his arm rests snugly against her back. She tries to understand the feelings jumping around inside of her and then she tries to put them in their respective boxes: one box for the subtle pulse of remorse, one box for the tickling of confusion, and on and on and on…
She attempts to label these emotions and close them up like case files.
It is not working very well, though.
And soon enough, every sneaking suspicion plays across her mind like a film reel. Every second she has spent with Bianca is up for question and, yet, it has nothing whatsoever to do with the other woman.
It is all about Marissa. It is all about Marissa and the fact that there are signals in this world – even if Bianca says there isn't.
There are signals and signs and invitations wrapped up in every touch.
There are a million ways to let someone know that you simply adore them. It could be your hand upon theirs, holding and supporting and trying your best to let them know that they are no longer alone. It could be in your smile when you see them, the way that grin will widen when they return the gesture. It could be the way you embrace them and think to yourself that this is how affection is supposed to feel; this is how it feels to be connected to someone and to open all those doors you've kept closed.
Being near her is one of the best feelings I've ever had.
A memory resurfaces and Marissa wonders if she will ever sleep again.
/ /
END