L O N E W O L F
It had been 4 months since Lara felt skin other than her own. 18 weeks since Amelia left. 123 days since “You have to try” and “But I don’t want to”.
Lara had been alone for 3 years before Amelia stumbled upon her. She didn’t miss much about her previous life - friends, boyfriends, work colleagues, taxes, traffic, brunch, birthday parties, pollution, noise, too much noise. In fact, she didn’t miss it at all. She didn’t miss the thrusting and grunting and grabbing and pushing and coughing and chewing and more and more noise. She liked the isolation. She liked the silence. She liked the distance. A whole galaxy between her and the nearest Starbucks. It was peace.
And then she came. Amelia. She came silently and softly. She creeped and crawled her way into Lara’s life. And then she left. Because the wilderness isn’t as romantic as they make it seem in the movies. And not everyone is cut out for the cold.
Eventually, Amelia’s patience wore thin and she presented Lara with an ultimatum, forgetting who Lara was. Or maybe she never knew. Thinking Lara could be swayed or persuaded. Thinking her heart was soft. But Lara was built in a fire. Not a red, warm, fire. But a cold, blue flame. Her heart was ice.
“Lara, please, you have to try”
“But I don’t want to”
“I. Don’t. Want to”
It had been 4 months since Amelia left. And in the silence, and solitude, and loneliness, Lara found comfort. It might seem harsh but she did not really care that Amelia had gone.
There was however one thing she missed. Skin on skin. Lara had never given much thought to sexuality, and while she wasn’t thrown into any sort of identity crisis - why would it matter at this point - she had to admit there was something different about a woman’s hand, about a woman’s touch. About how a woman can know your body in ways a man can not. It isn’t enough to make her go back, but it is enough to keep her up at night, clinging to her flesh, with the hope that she could imagine these hands weren’t her own.