okay so for the next few chapters of this book, you'll have to trust the process. Nova is insecure, lost, and has major issues with trust and commitment. You have to understand that everything she does is because she thinks she's keeping herself safe. She doesn't know better, so let's not start bashing her.

TW: Suicidal thoughts, talks of death, mild slut-shaming, and a lot of topics that surround mental health

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Nova

It's early in the morning, and I feel attached to my bed. I have work soon, but the idea of doing anything other than sleeping feels draining. I'm staring at my phone for the tenth time this morning. I'm staring at the only unnamed contact. I've written many messages and deleted them all because I don't know what to say. 

I haven't talked to him in a week because I went to bed that night, overthinking everything and convincing myself that he doesn't want anything to do with me. I'm scared of opening up to him just for things to end the way they did the first time. I've also been stressed and not prioritizing what I need to. 

But at the back of my mind, the thought that always appears is that he isn't reaching out either. It sort of bothers me because I think I've done something wrong- something to get him to never want to see me again. Did he get bored that fast?

My days are endless and filled with the same exact shit. I have nothing to look forward to, and that makes life so much more miserable. I stay up late making up for the time I don't get during the day, and I regret it when waking up feels even worse. 

I dread the days that haven't even come yet because I already know how they'll be. I've also been too busy to talk to my friends, but I've also been scared of talking to them about my newfound situation with someone.

I have so many other things to worry about- like the job that I'm barely keeping. The degree I'm still working for, and the life that I have built for myself. I don't have the time to worry about men who don't know the definition of consistency.

Though being a major hypocrite should also be the basis of my concerns.

I'm worried about every other relationship I can't seem to manage, every paper that's still due, and how on earth I'm ever going to convince myself that I actually want everything I'm working for.

Nothing I do feels right. I come home crying because I can't seem to do a single thing correctly. I'm so unbelievably lost with everything, and I'm too much of a coward to ask for help. I genuinely can't provide anything worthy to anyone, and I live in constant fear of someone realizing it.

I feel guilty for ending things with Celene- even though she took it really well, for ghosting Theo- even if he seems to be doing the same, and for avoiding my own friends. I'm seeing Roma tonight to help her set up her new apartment, and I'm thinking of ways to deflect questions about my personal life. 

I am small and frail, and I want a life of opulent things, but I know I'm too weak to reach. When I'm in stressful moments, I push people away because desolation is forever a comfort. My heart aches, my body seethes, and my mind stops. I am of no worth.

Sighing, I set my phone down, closing my eyes in bitter frustration. Pushing to sit upright in bed, feeling unsure of how to walk. I know that if I spend just five minutes walking around, I'll feel somewhat awake.

I force my legs out of the blanket and feel the rush of cold air against my bare skin. I sleep half-naked in a room that's freezing, but I can't fall asleep unless my room is cold enough to make me shake.

I get dressed in a haze.

20 minutes later, I pay the taxi driver and walk into the building, feeling my heart simmer with a sort of resistance. It would be so much easier to leave, but I can't. Amy greets me with a tired smile, and I'm certain I return the look. Taking the elevator alone, I feel my dread rise when the doors slide open, revealing the office I've seen time and time again.

A few people look up from their desks and offer me a polite smile. I walk to my desk, setting my things down. I look at the yellow stack of fresh sticky notes that sit on one of the messy corners of my desk, and I remember the notes that had once been left for me. I hate that my heart squeezes along with a tightening in my stomach. Just call me so that I don't feel like you find me annoying.

******

I feel the rush of relief rush through me when the clock hits 6:30, and I finish my last paper. I quickly pack my things and practically run out of the building. As much as I love it, I also hate the way it adds to my stress.

I choose to take the subway to Roma's place- knowing that the traffic at this hour would make taking a cab unbearable. I enjoy the golden tones of the deceiving sunset as the cold breeze hits my neck. I also enjoy the littered leaves that are scattered across the sidewalk, moving strangely so that my every step lands on a leaf- hoping that the crunch will be satisfying.

I resist the urge to frown when I step on one and it doesn't make a noise. I pull my coat tighter with every breeze until I'm walking with crossed arms at a rapid pace. Only do I stop when I see an outdoor vendor. There are displays of magazines and a few random things. I suddenly remember that Tony has an article that's supposed to be out by now.

I smile at the old man behind the counter before turning to look at the display of magazines. I pull out my phone to double-check the title. All of the magazines are in plastic bags, so I can't flip through them. I grab the correct one and rush to the counter because I'm scared the man is judging how long it's taking me.

I grab a bag of candy as I walk to the counter. The man silently scans my things, only speaking when he announces how much I need to pay. I hand him the card, watch as he swipes, and even though I know there's money on the card, I get a little scared about the card being declined.

When he hands it to me, I give him a polite smile and walk away. I get to the subway quickly, finding my seat on the train. I opened the magazine, flipping through the pages slowly even though I already know what page Tony's article is on. I look at pictures of celebrities, not really paying attention to the words.

Then I come across a picture of a familiar face. A face I'm avoiding. My eyes scan everything, scared I'll miss a detail. He's in a black tux, the fabric around his arms tight, hair actually styled, looking strange while also looking like he's in his element.

When I feel ashamed of how weird I seem, I flip the pages, going straight to Tony's article and reading through it. The article was mostly about a topic I couldn't understand, but I take a picture of it and send it to Tony, telling her that I loved it. 

Then I flip through the magazine some more for the sole purpose of seeing if there are any other pictures of him. When I don't find any, I return to the first picture. I consider using it as a way to talk to him, but he'd probably think I was weird, so I just close the magazine and set it inside of my beige tote bag. 

Halfway through the ride, I take a picture of it and send it to him saying: You're never gonna leave me alone, are you?

I wish.

Then, I text Roma, letting her know that I'm close. I also ignore the nervousness in my stomach. After a while, l step off the subway, finding Roma's white car parked along the sidewalk. I speed-walk to it, opening the door and swiftly sliding in. She greets me with a kind smile. To which I return, feeling relieved by her familiar face.

"Hey!" she says, reaching over to press her fingertips against my cheeks. "God, you're cold."

I nod, flipping down the mirror to look at myself. My nose and cheeks are stained red. "I hate how cold it gets."

She starts the car, "Well, that's what you get for living in the north."

I feel grateful when she turns up the heat, feeling it blow onto my neck. I relax into the seat, turning to look at Roma as she drives. Her honey curls are tied up and a few strands frame her face. She's dressed in a green turtleneck and black jeans.

"We're going to a thrift store first," she says. "I want to buy some new things to put up at my new place."

I smile, "Weren't you complaining about having too many things?" Roma recently moved into a bigger apartment that's closer to her boutique, and she asked me to help her set things up. I feel excited because I love decorating, we have very similar tastes when it comes to these things.

She scoffs, "That's a problem for later. What would we do if I don't have enough options?"

I laugh, "Oh yeah. I'm sure that's going to be the big problem."

She smiles, rolling her eyes. I turn to look out the window. The streets are darker, but still alive, and I feel a tinge of envy burn me because I wish I had the energy to go out.

"What's wrong?" Roma's voice snaps me out of the trance I had been in. "You're oddly quiet."

I roll my head to look at her, "Just tired."

She studies my face quickly, "How long is this routine with work and school going to be?"

I shrug, "Don't know."

I close my eyes, wishing I had a way to deter this conversation. What am I even supposed to say? No. I'm an idiot, and I waste the rare free time I have thinking about someone who shouldn't even still exist in my universe.

A few minutes later, we wound up outside of a small thrift store with dim lights. Through the window, you can see shelves lined with trinkets, racks with unorganized clothes, and old furniture that's probably saturated with dust.

Lord knows why I love places like this so much, but being inside of a thrift store makes me feel so happy. I could spend hours sifting through the shelves, trying to guess what kind of environment it was in before.

Roma and I step outside of the car, walking inside of the small store shoulder-to-shoulder. She takes my hand in hers, pulling me to one of the shelves. When we reach the shelf, she lets go of my hand. 

"You know what I want to do?" she asks.

I hum, bending down to look at a few glass frogs.

"Well, you know how I went to Brooklyn?" she asks, talking about her visiting her parents. 

"Yeah...?" I look at her face.

"I really liked it," she starts. "Not just Brooklyn. I mean the leaving home aspect, and I was starting to think about maybe doing it more often, you know?"

I furrow my brows, "You want to travel more?"

She leans her shoulder against the shelf, nodding. "Maybe really frequently."

I turn to the glass statues, ignoring the sink of my heart. Even though it might be a bit selfish, I hate the thought of not having one of my closest friends just one train ride away from me. I put on a smile, "You've never really liked New York."

She smiles, "Yeah. Plus, settling down was never truly my intention."

She squats down to where I am, gasping when she sees the frogs. "Look at how cute!"

I laugh, "You should get them."

She sets three in her basket before meeting my eyes. I see the way they seem so happy, and I wonder if New York takes that away from her. "What would happen to your business?" I ask.

She smiles, "I could have Grace cover for me, or I could sell it." Grace is her assistant at the store. 

I nod, "So you've thought about it a lot?"

She shrugs, "By the time my first lease ends, I could have all of the little details settled."

I'm sure my face falters, "So you're actually going to go through with it?"

We move to a different shelf. She nods, "I'm growing older, and I've done nearly nothing with my life," she says. "I want to do things before I actually have to figure shit out."

"Where would you go first?" I ask, trying to ignore the need to hold onto her like a child.

She smiles, "I was thinking somewhere like Europe. Maybe stay there for a few months."

I can't help but match the grin on her face, "Send me something from everywhere you go, okay?"

She nods, faking an insulted scoff. "Like I wasn't already planning that."

"And you have to come back every now and then," I say.

"Promise," she agrees. Then she looks at me curiously, "Are you staying here? After college?"

I bite the inside of my cheek, "For now, I don't really have a choice," I confess. "But the thought of living somewhere else doesn't repulse me."

She smiles, "You seem like the type of person who ends up in Paris at the end."

We continue to wander through the store, passing all of the shelves and adding things to our baskets that we most definitely do not need. Then we get distracted in the clothing section. I laugh when she holds up a knitted sweater that has a dick on the front. I laugh even harder when she puts it into her basket.

She continues looking through the sweaters, but I wander to a little section where jewelry is being displayed. I look at the necklaces, not finding one I would wear, then turning to look at the rings. I trace my finger over each intricate pattern until I land on a silver-burnished band that has carvings of intricate stars and a few moons.

I fall completely in love with it. I slide it into my finger, feeling disappointed that it's far too big to fit me. I try it on all of my fingers, watching it dangle from each one. I hate the idea of not getting it. I stare at the ring before realizing that I only know one person who has the right ring size and could pull it off.

It would fit in well with all of the other rings Theo wears. My heart speeds up at the thought of giving it to him, and I wonder how stupid he would find me. Presenting him a stupid ring that I found in a second-hand shop. Thinking of him in the most inconvenient ways.

Please text me back. Please.

Sighing, I decide to just get the ring- even if I can't wear it. But I also feel sadness embrace my body. Just one thought of him hurts me. I don't know what we're doing. We are dancing a duet, but we are never in sync, and it's nearly impossible to tell who's dancing to the correct counts.

Roma comes up to me, showing me a shirt that she insists I need. I take hold of it, and we walk to the counter. The guy checks out the ring last, and before Roma can ask, I slip it into my coat jacket, leaving my hand in the pocket so that I can trace the carvings with my thumb. We pay, and I sink into my jacket as we walk out, feeling the cool September air. 

The streets are dim. None of the streetlights are on yet. So aside from the faint yellow lights from shop windows, or the half-working fairy lights strung through trees, you are left to use your other senses. 

So much beauty that we never have the means to examine. Appreciating the things we pass as opposed to what we are. Fleeting habits for fleeting creatures. How wistfully fitting.

I relish in the warmth of Roma's car, watching as she turns the heat all the way up. "This is why I want to leave," she says, causing a smile to rise to my lips.

"I'm considering the option of going with you," I say, not realizing how well the thought sits with me until the words leave my mouth.

"We'll meet in Paris," she says, starting the car.

"One day," I say, watching a smile play on her lips.

The car is dark as a result of the outside. I lean my head against the window, absentmindedly tracing the ring in my pocket. Would he do the same? Would he look at it and wonder how many times I slipped it onto my own fingers, how many times my fingers tried engraving the carvings on my own skin?

"Do share what is causing such a distressed look," Roma says, words half laced with humor.

I sigh, lifting myself straight and sinking into the seat. "Do you think big people care about little things?"

"What do you mean by 'big people'?" she asks.

"Like important people who don't seem to have little things. Do you think they look at little things and think of them the same way?" I ask.

She thinks about it. "Maybe. At the end of the day, they are still human. Having more doesn't mean you see less. Being ignorant is what causes people to overlook little things."

I know Theo sees things as more than what they are. He probably doesn't think so, but his thoughts are what makes him an interesting person. The way he thinks about certain things is sometimes limited because of the way he was raised.

 But as his own person, he has such a broad sense of comprehension. Pretty thoughts that tumble out of a silver-spoon mouth are always a little bit more enticing.

"Which big person are you talking about?" Roma asks.

I accidentally meet her eyes at a red light, being forced to hold them. "Just in general," I lie.

The thought of him sharing those thoughts with someone else makes me feel unhappy. With everyone, I like to feel special. I like it when people think of me at random times, when people have nicknames that only they call me, or when people remember little things. 

Roma parks outside of her new building a few minutes later, and we step out of the car. The building is simple with gold lining everything, but not in a pretentious way. In a classy and minimal way.

At her door, it takes her a second to find the right key, but soon we enter a wide apartment with wood floors and white walls. The place is bare aside from furniture draped with white sheets. I take a second to look around before Roma says, "I'm gonna give you a tour."

I follow her around as she walks from room to room, explaining what she plans to do with all of them.

"Seems like an awful lot to do for just one lease," I joke.

She smiles as we reach a narrow hallway. I mimic her as she sits down, crossing her legs. "It kind of scares me," she admits.

"Your lease?" I humor.

She smiles, but it seems hollow. "I don't really have friends or family outside of New York," she clarifies. "I grew up here."

"Isn't that the point of traveling, though? Seeing if what you don't know exists?" I ask. "Not knowing is part of any journey, Ro."

She sighs, her chest rising and falling with the sound. "Maybe. But What if I'm giving it all up for something I might not even like?"

"Then you come back," I say. "Everything will still be here. Maybe take a few test trips just to make sure you enjoy it."

"Yeah, I guess I have time," she says, leaning against me.

She takes a moment to think, "You said that not knowing was part of any journey. That applies to this as well, Nova."

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"You have a habit of often avoiding things you don't know. You are a creature of habit- no matter how unorganized you can be." She takes my hand in hers. "And sometimes, as your friend, I support you even though I can see what you're missing by avoiding."

She traces lines over my palm."But this time, I'll be honest. I think you need to walk into the blind. Everything happens for a reason, and if he hurts you, you have the rest of your life to continue hating him."

Of course, she knows I'm thinking about him.

I bite my tongue, not meeting her eyes. Then, I decide to let everything unravel. "Do you think I'm being stupid?"

She doesn't miss a beat, "By avoiding him? Yes."

"He's avoiding me. I texted him today and he hasn't responded," I sigh. I realize how much I sound like a little girl talking about her crush. 

"You can be cautious, but you can't be stupid," she says. "Clearly, you've already started something with him and whether it's something big or small is not my place to know, but know