Never Cover up What We Did With a Dress

"Where the fuck are you going? We were meant to turn off there." I yelled at Demi as she screamed along the freeway, completely missing our turn off.

"Sorry, I've never been there before. I don't know how to get there."

"That's why you have me to tell you the directions, which I did, but you didn't listen and just sped past the exit."

"Oh shut up. So I want to get there early to maybe catch up with Marilyn? Just tell me where to go. Loudly."

"Oh no," I muttered, "you are not going to stalk him at the venue earlier than everyone else. No. When we get to Orlando we're going to get a hotel room and sleep for a few hours, not stalk him. You made me get up at fucking three a-m."

"No shit. Why do you think I made you?"

"Demi! Just cool it, okay? I came in the end, that's enough for now. Turn left at this exit."

"For fucks sake Chesney. Who said I am doing this for you? I want to meet him. If you were a good friend you'd want to come with me." Demi said, pressing her foot heavily onto the accelerator.

"Slow down! I said get off at this exit!"

"So we missed another turn off? Jesus Christ, let me do it!"

"No! You'll be too busy talking and convincing me to do shit I don't want to do that you'll end up forgetting all about directing me, and we'll get even more screwed than we are now."

"Whore."

I rolled my eyes and stared out the window aimlessly. My heart was beating faster than it ever had before, my insides were tangling in themselves. I hadn't even seen him yet, and yet I was becoming more and more nervous with every passing second. All of a sudden dark smoke began emerging from under the car hood. Demi and I both screamed as she quickly pulled into the emergency lane, stopping the car and turning it off immediately. Not knowing what was going to happen, she started to very quickly grab our bags and sprint off down the motorway.

"Demi!" I yelled, following her down the road. "It won't blow up! What are you doing? Come back and help me call someone!"

When she'd gotten to a distance she found safe from the car and any potential explosions, she sat down by the side of the road, or the vibrant green grassy patch of empty land that was dotted with emergency phones. I sat down beside her.

"Great." She muttered in annoyance. "Just great. Now we won't make it early to Orlando, let alone in time to see the concert. We may as well just get towed back home."

"Don't be so discouraged." I replied, rubbing her back and standing up to dial the number or a mechanic. "I'll get us some help. We may be able to get there in time."

"Oh. And since when did you want to come?"

"Since... I realised how important it is for you."

"Cut the bull shit and call someone." Demi replied.

_________________________________________________________________

Marilyn Manson.

Was it wrong for me to think of some other girl from my high school while I was freshly married to someone else?

Could I help or avoid praying to see her at my concerts? Should I have given up on the chance of her being at any of my concerts after the way I pushed her aside in my life?

It was sad but true that Dita, my wife and part love of my life, had been the kick start to me using again. I had been so happy with her, my excessive drinking began to drastically reduce, and drug use almost to nothing. But now, she works, I work, when we do spend any time together we're fighting more than anyone else I have ever come across. I often find myself wondering why. I often find myself wondering how.

How could a feeling once so strong boil down to almost wanting to run away from that person? Why was I beginning to think of Chesney Martin again?

All questions that are constantly circling around in my head, as well as others of related subjects. All questions that needed to be answered sooner than later. All questions I have no clue of how to figure out the answers to.

What was I going to do?

I decided the next time I see Chesney would be the decider. If my heart stopped the way it used to when I looked into her sharp, electric blue eyes then I would have to leave Dita and be with the girl who I denied myself about all through my years as a depressed, confused teenager. The girl who had always been a giant question mark to me, both in heart and mind.

If I didn't come across her in fate, I could call her again.

After all, I never deleted her number.