Good Love Will Find Me

Natalie hadn't kissed someone this hard and this much in such a long time.

Her lips felt swollen, but her mouth was permanently stretched into a smile nonetheless.

To say she missed John was an understatement. It was more like she was incomplete without him and she needed him in order to breathe.

She didn't know how she ever thought she could live the rest of her life without him.

Annie had let her off early, as the boys had begged and begged her until she gave in.

They agreed to meet up later at a bowling alley in the city, as John and Natalie had some catching up to do.

The pair returned to her apartment and he admired how clean it was. "My room hasn't been this clean since..." he trailed off.

"Since I left?" she finished for him.

He looked at her, eyes filled with despair. "Yeah. No one to impress."

"Except Jenny?"

"Well, yeah. She's been on my ass about my room nonstop."

She chuckled and nodded. "Well, yeah. This is pretty much it. Nothing too fancy, really."

There was a tiny kitchen and an island table. What should have been the dining room was just her record player and tons of records all neatly organized in what seemed to be a dozen or more wicker baskets, all labeled with letters from the alphabet.

Then in her living room was a brown corduroy couch that didn't seem to match anything else in the room. There was a white end table and in front of everything was a brown coffee table and a small television.

A short hallway led to one bedroom at the end and a bathroom to the right, and there was subtle lighting everywhere, accompanied by pictures upon pictures.

There were photos of Bridget, the guys, her mom, Luke, but -

"Yeah. There's none of you," she told him while he took note of all the frames on her wall. As she noticed the look of disappointment on his face, she quickly added, "Not in this room, I mean. Oh god. Of course I have - um, follow me."

Natalie took his hand and led him down the hallway and into her bedroom, which was no different than the living room. It was spotless, other than a jacket plopped sloppily on her computer chair and an unmade bed.

She gestured to her bedside table and there was a frame turned face down. He walked over to it and flipped it over so he could see the picture inside.

It was a picture of him reading from his notebook on his bed. She must have taken it when she was sitting on his couch on one of the mornings after she had spent the night. His hair was quite disheveled and all he had on was basketball shorts and an old Tom Petty t-shirt.

"Why was it turned over?" John asked as he set it back down the way he had found it.

Her eyes looked towards her feet as she wrung her hands. "Sometimes it hurt too much to look at it. Some nights it would make me want to come home so bad that I wouldn't be able to sleep. But sometimes it actually helped me sleep after a particularly bad day. It has its ups and downs. Mostly it relieved the yearning I felt when I really wanted to call you, but couldn't."

"Why didn't you?" he inquired, feeling a little indignant.

"If I called you, I wouldn't be able to stop myself from telling you where I was."

"Why didn't you want me to find out?" He sat down on the bed and ran a hand through his hair. He patted the spot beside him, but Natalie looked away, pretending not to see.

After so much time spent being apart, she hadn't fully gotten used to being around him all the time. She felt that if she touched him too often or hugged him too hard, he would disappear. Natalie wanted to savor her time with him as much as she could.

"Because I knew you'd come to get me and it wouldn't take much for you to bring me home."

He smiled. "Well, yeah. I want you to come home." He stood and grabbed her hand, pulling her towards the bed.

She let herself get pulled onto his lap and she felt his kisses on her neck, but she was, "Stiff. You're stiff."

Natalie focused her eyes on the wall in front of her and said nothing. Rubbing her hands up and down her knees, she sighed. "I'm sorry. I just - I don't want to get too used to you."

He recoiled, and she stood.

"Do you...not feel the same way anymore?" he asked slowly.

"No, no. I swear, it's not like that. I just don't want to allow myself to let you in, and give myself to you, and then force myself to be without you again. I can't do it, John. I'm sorry."

All he gave to her in return was a sigh and walked out of the room. She didn't follow.


He found her in the same room but instead of standing the way she was when he left, she was sitting against her headboard with her knees pulled up against her chest.

John was reminded just how small Natalie was. And how fragile she was. And how strong she pretended to be. And the fact that she was honest with him meant a lot - it just wasn't his preferred outcome. He wanted to make up for lost time, but she wasn't ready.

"If not now, when?" he asked quietly.

She looked up at him and was silent for a moment.

He simply sat down at the end of the bed.

"Where did you go?"

"Outside. I needed a cigarette."

"Oh."

He shook his head. "You can't run from me forever. I get that you need this job and you needed to be away from home but Natalie, I need you. I missed you and now we're here together and why can't we do that? Why can't we be together?"

She untangled her body parts and crawled until her back was against his and sat like that with her legs stretched out and the back of her head touching the back of his neck.

"I missed you too, John. But I don't want to get hurt."

"I won't hurt you, Nat. I thought you would know that by now. I care about you more than anyone in the world."

She closed her eyes and processed all that was happening. But before she could say another word, their phones buzzed and John said, "I guess it's time to go bowling."