Trust Me Read Free Page A

chamomile-scented bubble bath. The smell relaxes me, and I add a generous amount to the steaming hot water. Anxious to get into the tub, I strip and ease myself in. Turning off the water, I decide to close my eyes for a bit.
    Lying there among the foaming bubbles, I randomly pop them with my fingers while listening to the consoling voice of Michael Bublé. I think about what my next steps might be. What would Mom and Dad think of what I’ve become in the last year? Sometimes, I feel like I don’t even recognize myself.
    If I were to ask my mom for advice on this, I could hear her saying, Advice is what we ask when we already know the answer but wish we didn’t.
    It’s so true. They would be sad to see how I have quit living life to the fullest and have resorted to just existing. I do want to start living again, but I am so afraid of what will happen after the loss I have suffered.
    As I climb out of the tub, I ponder about how I’ll start reclaiming my life. I’ve let the pain of my parent’s death consume me, and if I’m not careful, it’ll continue to devour me until nothing is left.
    I decide to take a quick nap before the sunset, so I open the balcony doors and rest as the distant sounds of seagulls and the ocean play me a lullaby.

    A few hours later, I emerge from my room, wearing a light blue T-shirt and comfortable black yoga pants, with my camera in hand and my bag on my shoulder. During the elevator ride down, I rummage through my bag for a hair tie, and after finding one, I throw my hair up into a haphazard messy ponytail to keep the hair out of my face while I’m taking pictures on the beach.
    Once in the lobby, I head outside to the beach, and a clean, salty scent greets me and wraps around me. After removing my flip-flops, I squish the sand in between my toes. The scenery brings happy memories, and I welcome them as I remember when my family used to head to the beach for long weekend getaways. It’s good to think about the memories and not feel like I am being swallowed up by the sadness that normally accompanies the thought of my parents.
    Making my way down the shoreline, I enjoy the peaceful feeling of having no expectations. It’s just the crashing waves, my camera, and me. In the distance, I see some dolphins tormenting a seagull. They seem to be playing a keep-away game. I prepare my camera and adjust the settings. It’s a professional digital camera with a wide-angle zoom lens that my parents had bought as my birthday present after I finished my first year of college.
    I begin taking shots from different angles as I try to capture contrasting lights from the sky. There’s something magical about taking an image that will help me remember all the smells, feelings, and thoughts I had in that exact moment of time. It’s like freezing a piece of history that can never happen in the same way again.
    As I start walking, I think back to my apartment, which is covered with pictures I’ve taken, memories I have made, and moments I will cherish.
    “Ow!” Oh my gosh! I got so captivated in the moment that I almost ran someone over in the process. My eyes automatically shut from the impact. I decide not to open them as I take stock of how hard this guy’s body feels. Crap, my shoulder hurts from hitting him.
    “Shit.” The voice is deep, raw, and powerful.
    Now is when I have to face this total stranger and admit that I made a total idiot of myself because I was distracted. Um, yeah, I totally rock. He did not sound pleased either. Well, who would be when some crazy person rams into you out of the blue? It’s time to face that inevitable moment when I wish I could just fast forward, so I don’t physically have to live through it.
    “I’m so sorry. I was gazing out to the ocean, and I didn’t see you.” When I look up into the eyes of the stranger, I am immediately frozen into place from the deep blue gazing back at me. They are the purest blue pair of eyes I have ever seen. Thank goodness I