This Turbulence is Beautiful.

I was suffering from a mixture of chronic ailments. It had been nearly a month since I'd even seen Hayden- something I thought would clear my head a lot quicker than it actually had done. My mood went up and down like a yoyo; for the best part of the first week after the whole Hayden incident I had spent my time sitting around and feeling sorry for myself. Now, my mood rapidly switched at any given moment from moping to fine to somewhere in between, often for no reason.

The worst part was that I simply had no reason to feel like this- I understood that. It wasn't like I sat around moping when I got cheated on by my boyfriend of four plus years. Numerous attempts by the boys to cheer me up had failed- not their fault, of course. When I couldn’t even tell them why I was feeling so down, they couldn’t exactly fix it. I had tried to explain it but every time I did, I got tongue tied, or couldn’t quite get my mind to grab the words before they got lost in a tumble of emotions, and it was easily as frustrating to them as it was to me. Even Josh couldn’t quite grasp it enough to put it into words, and that was pretty much what he did for a living.

My routine of getting up, getting dressed and going to work helped a lot of the time. Oddly enough, as much as some people would hate to work when they felt like crap, I didn't mind it at all. On the contrary, I quite enjoyed it. Working meant that for a couple of hours at least I could switch my mind off and concentrate on things other than my stupid emotions. The days when I didn't have work were spent on trips out with the boys or their girlfriends- girls who were quickly becoming very close friends of mine. They understood that sometimes, mood swings just happened, and seemed to know how to deal with it.

The boys were handling it differently. Matt didn’t seem to treat me any differently; we still went out for coffee and spoke about how things were going for him; we still occasionally went shopping and talked about childhood memories; we still sat down most Saturday mornings and watching children’s cartoons to provide said childhood memories. Max, Dan and Chris took the phrase “walking on eggshells” and made it their own. They would talk to me, but avoid all talk of love or girlfriends or anything of the sort. Max overloaded me with cups of coffee because it was the only way he knew how to help, and when Dan and Chris went and did the food shopping run, they bought what looked to be the whole of the confectionary aisle- the tray in the fridge that was supposed to be for vegetables was now loaded with Dairy Milk, and we still had another few multipacks in the cupboards. The only problem was that when they did all of this stuff for me, it made me feel worse for being so miserable. The first time Max had brought me a cup of coffee in the morning before work, I had cried and flung my arms around his neck, whilst he stood there awkwardly patting my back. It was something we laughed about later, but at the time it certainly wasn’t funny- for either of us.

Josh insisted on doing a lot of things to help me clear my head. I assumed that he had been in a similar situation to me on the whole Taylor front, judging from the nature of the song he’d played me the other day to show “that I wasn’t alone” in this. He’d put it on my iPod and for the last three nights I’d listened to it on repeat, to let it lull me into sleep. I had become so accustomed to it that I was wondering how I’d ever fallen asleep without it before. It literally felt like it had been written for me- which I know was presumptuous of me to think. I know that, at this moment in time, I sounded like a selfish cow: making people run errands for me that I didn’t ask them to do; seemingly making people worry about me enough to spend most of their time cheering me up; somehow making people feel so bad that they bought me a lifetime’s supply of chocolate- but I didn’t want them to do that. I didn’t want them to feel they had to run around for me, I just needed some time to sit and feel sorry for myself. It sounded pathetic, but I hoped that everyone had periods of time where they did the same kind of thing. Unfortunately, I think mine was lasting longer than most peoples. I remember, when we were younger, Matt was really in to this girl. She was quite clearly in to him as well- they went everywhere together, which, at our young age, was pretty unique. Their birthdays were in the same week- so they, ahem, “celebrated” together. A nice little cosy private party- and Matt was literally over the moon. I couldn’t remember ever seeing him as happy as he had been when he’d come over mine to tell me.

For some reason, they stopped talking in the space of three weeks after that event. He literally had no clue why, and because of that he couldn’t get over it. We spent hours trying to come up with lists of reasons why she would have done, but we had nothing. I spoke to one of her friends, without Matt’s blessing as such, and she told me that the girl was really into him; she just had a lot on her mind. I went and told Matt this, and for the first time, and probably the only time other than when he fell over when he was really young, his eyes got a little misty and he almost cried. “Why couldn’t she just tell me what was wrong?” I remembered him saying. He was more confused than before, and we spent more time pondering the girl than before as well.

I didn’t have this problem. I had instigated both break-ups that I had gone through in the last week: I didn’t have to think about why it happened, or who was to blame. After many walks around Weybridge with Josh asking questions at three-hundred miles a minute, he had finally convinced me that none of this was my fault. Taylor had cheated: I was the smart one for getting out of that when I could. Hayden had cheated with me: it was compassionate of me to give up something that made me happy because I didn’t want to wreck a perfectly good marriage. They were the bad guys in all of this.

The problem was that there was something nagging at me that I couldn’t quite figure out. On a walk after work one night, Josh had taken me to his flat to show me something. He pulled out a notebook from his bedside drawers, and flicked to a page that was more worn than any of the other leaves in the book. There was messy writing covering the page, things scribbled out and notes Tipexed out and re-written. There was no title on the sheet but I recognised some of the phrases, for the chosen few had been picked out and tacked to the wall around his room on fresh sheets of paper. One of the lines was written in red, underlined, and had a small smiley face next to it- You’ve made your bed, so sleep with him- but know I’m the best you’ll get. It was a line from the song that Josh had put on my iPod, and I tapped it with my finger, and sung the words- I felt like a child reading aloud to a parent, but it made him laugh and put his arm around me in a caring way anyway, pulling me closer and ruffling my hair. We had spent the next twenty minutes or so having a play fight until he fell off the bed and smacked his head on the floor.



Polishing glasses was one of the most tedious jobs I had, especially when I was stood around, in the empty bar, polishing glasses that I had already put through the washer three times. Every now and then I would let out a sigh to no-one but myself, just to try and get across how bored and frustrated I really was.

It was ten minutes before my shift ended- but those ten minutes always seemed to go the slowest out of the bunch. Since it was nearing Christmas now, we had replaced the coffee-flavoured biscuits I used to help myself to during this time of day with mince pies (which I find truly repulsive) so I couldn’t even snack to pass the time. I had literally drunk four pints of soda water today to try and pass time, but all that left me with was a bursting bladder and a bar I couldn’t leave unattended.

John came in pretty soon, and told me I could go, so I practically sprinted to the toilet. It was raining out, and I decided rather than bothering Josh to come and get me, I would brave it and walk home myself. It was the first time a thought like that had even crossed my mind, which gave me a sort of new confidence in myself.

Walking down the street wasn’t so bad- I just kept my pace quick and refused to look over my shoulder. It was bitterly cold out and I had to keep tugging my jacket around my waist and pulling my dress down my legs, just to try and stretch it to cover them that little bit more.

I tried to push Hayden and Taylor out of my head for the evening. Hopefully the boys would be home so I could sit down with them and relax, and at least make an effort to get over it rather than sitting around and feeling sorry for myself for no good reason. It wasn’t like I could really miss Hayden- I’d only known him for a few weeks. Granted, I felt like a slag for sleeping with him after such little time: that really wasn’t me. I guess the thing I really didn’t understand was why it had to be me. That sounded really stuck up and like I was above all this; that isn’t what I meant in the slightest. This was the problem- my words didn’t come out properly. It was just that I felt so let down by this, and so completely unlovable.

Something clicked, loudly, in my mind. I smiled to myself. It wasn’t much to go on, but I guess it was something.



I walked into the house, and it was oddly silent. All of the lights were off, the street lamps from outside sent an orange glow around the room so I could vaguely see where I was going. I walked through to the kitchen to grab a drink, and then back into the living room. I was about to switch the light on to watch television, when I saw Josh curled up in a ball, breathing softly as he slept. He looked like a child who had fallen asleep in front of the telly because it was past his bedtime. I smiled to myself.

Sitting instead on the armchair adjacent to where Josh was sleeping, I settled down and flicked on the television with the remote. The light buzzed around the room and I saw Josh stir slightly. I quickly turned the telly off, praying I hadn’t woken him.

“Hey, Rosie, back from work already?” he mumbled sleepily, his eyes still closed.

“It’s half eleven, Josh…” I laughed softly. He opened his eyes and looked straight at his watch.

“Fucking hell. Where are the boys?”

I shrugged, opening the bottle of cola I’d helped myself to from the fridge. Josh sat up and reached across to grab the remote, pulling at my wrist with his other hand and tugging me over to the seat next to him. He smiled as I complied, switching on a teleshopping channel.

“Teleshopping helps me sleep,” he mumbled, yawning slightly. I laughed, leaning back on the sofa to watch the woman trying her best to sell the necklace that was probably worth £2.99 for “only thirty pounds, ladies, only thirty pounds”.

“I could make that necklace for less than that,” Josh said to himself. I laughed at him, my head still leant back against the sofa.

“Are you alright, Rosie?”

I nodded. I didn’t really know what to say.

“Are you sure?”

I nodded once more, “I just had a sort of- epiphany, if you will.”

Josh tilted his head, “About Hayden?”

“I guess,” I shrugged, playing with the top of the bottle of cola, trying to distract myself.

Josh watched me for a little while, before saying, “You goin’ to tell me then?” smiled curiously at me as I focused all of my attention on the bottle, trying to stop my hands from shaking and my breath from hitching.

“I suppose, what with him and Taylor- I just feel pretty down. Like, I just wanted it to be easy for me. Taylor was the easy way out. If my childhood sweetheart doesn’t want me,” I stopped to sniff and clear my nose a little, “then who exactly would? Am I just that completely unlovable?” I was talking more to the coke bottle than Josh, and I was trying to block out the words myself. I didn’t want to hear myself saying all of this because it made it so much more real.

"Rosie, one of the last things you could ever be is unlovable," he whispered, taking my shaking hand in his. My breathing became heavier as we shifted closer together, both of us trying to make it as inconspicuous as possible that we were moving closer. His breathing was speeding up too, and as his hand let go of mine and rested on the top of my leg, I heard it hitch in his throat. He coughed slightly with a smile to cover it as best as he could. I placed my hand on his chest. His heart was going at two hundred miles an hour, but then so was mine. Quiet surrounded us, only broken up by our breathing and the feint sound of the woman trying to flog jewellery on the television. Josh ran his hand further up my thigh, sliding under my dress and resting on my hip as he moved closer. My hand ghosted over his upper torso, moving as gently as I could manage when my hands were shaking so much, and rested on his lower back. His other hand moved from the sofa to the small of my back.

He smiled a soft smile at me, biting his lip slightly and moving nearer. I could feel his deep breaths on my cheek as I took a few sharp breaths to try and calm myself. I tilted my head slightly, just as he tilted his the same way. We both moved in the opposite direction simultaneously.

Josh laughed a quiet and whispery laugh, and moved his hand from my hip to my cheek, holding me in the position I was in, "You stay like that," he mumbled, another laugh sounding out in the quiet. My eyes flickered between his shining blue ones- somewhat sparkling despite the fact that there were no lights on in the room- and his lips, his teeth still slightly sunk into the bottom lip in an overly cheeky fashion. I don't think he could help it- he just had that kind of smile. I smiled back at him, as his teeth pulled from his bottom lip, leaving a mark where they had been. Inching closer and still holding my face gently, he put the tiniest bit of pressure on my back and pulled me closer still to him.

For a few split seconds, neither of us moved. We took in what was going on and I felt Josh smile into my lips, before he pulled away the slightest bit to move back towards me. Our lips met again, although this time it wasn't as soft. I pushed towards him a little more; my hand that was keeping me from falling back on the sofa moved automatically to wrap around his neck. His hand moved from my back to the seat to support us both, and he carefully lowered my body back so I was half-lying down on the couch, and he moved with me so he was hovering over my body, his elbow supporting him. His tongue trailed along my bottom lip and I smiled, mimicking his actions. His mouth automatically fell open as I did so, forcing mine to as well. We both held back for what felt like minutes, both of us scared to take it that little edge further.

My mind went blank as I felt Josh's tongue trail over my bottom lip once again, and suddenly we were engaged in a make-out session that felt like we would both happily carry on for a lot longer. My mind sort of disconnected from my body as I felt myself wrapping my leg around Josh's lower back and pulling him closer to me, making him pull back from the kiss. I kept my eyes on his lips as he smirked, pulling him back towards me with the arm I had draped around his shoulder. His hand moved from my face, trailing slowly down my side and resting on my hip, which he would occasionally squeeze softly, rubbing his thumb over the material of my dress. He shifted slightly so he was comfortable, but our lips didn't part. As my hand moved up from his shoulder to his hair, rubbing along his neck slightly as I did so and earning a smile against my lips, his hand moved from above my shoulder, where he was propping himself up, and pushed under my body. He settled it to the centre of my back, and pulled me closer towards him. Without his weight being taken by his arm, his body almost collapsed into mine, his knees bent so he could keep himself supported. As he ran his tongue over mine gently, and rubbed my hip again, I followed suit and let my other hand fall casually to his hip. I trailed my thumb under his t-shirt and over his hip bones, and then moved it slowly back, making him laugh as I put my hand into his back pocket. I smiled back, and he shifted his weight once again to move us closer together, as I moved my leg to allow him closer. I felt my cheeks burn as his hips moved between my legs, his enjoyment of our make-out session becoming suddenly apparent. My hand moved from his back pocket to his lower back as I pulled him closer, our lips still working against each others, our tongues still exploring. I let a small moan that had been building up escape, and flushed red. He pulled away, also blushing.

"Oh god, Rosie, you're amazing," he mumbled, his lips moving along my jaw line as he lay a trail of kisses from my lips and down to my neck. He planted another sloppy kiss there, his breath shallow and his chest rising and sinking against mine. I was frozen.

I put my hand on his shoulder and pushed him up, and he moved back slightly, frowning. I shook my head, mainly to myself, and shuffled from underneath him, pulling my dress down where it had risen slightly.

"I can't do this, Josh..." I trailed off, crawling off of the sofa and standing in a rushed and most definitely unattractive fashion.

"What are you on about, Rosie? I'm not asking you to do anything?"

I nodded in agreement, but picked up my bag anyway, backing away from the sofa as Josh stood up too.

"I'm sorry, I have to go," I mumbled, my cheeks still hot. He looked at me, confused. I continued backing towards the door as I heard it open. I swivelled to see Matt and Max standing there, laughing at their own jokes as they brought supermarket carrier bags of food in. I looked back towards Josh, who was stood awkwardly behind the sofa, obviously trying to hide the bulge in his jeans, "What have I done, Rosie?"

Matt and Max stopped laughing and looked between Josh and I. Before I could even answer Josh's question, I found myself almost running out of the door, ignoring Matt's calls of my name.