The Journal Assignment Ch. 01
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My therapist suggested I keep a journal to keep track of my thoughts. It’s not like anybody is going to be reading this, but for the purpose of this assignment let me pretend that this journal is a friend I’m emailing – my friend Logan.
Although, I don’t actually have a friend named Logan anymore, but that’s beside the point and I shouldn’t get into that right now. What point did I want to make? Oh yes, if I’m going to be writing my deepest personal thoughts to someone I would want it to be to him.
Hey, this is a no judgment place, so it’s okay Lorna! Shake it off!
So I was saying, guys are less judgmental in my opinion.
Let me give you the context.
I’ve been referred to Doctor Stevenson. He said writing in a journal would help me make sense of all the thoughts that come and go through this pretty head of mine.
He said it was part of his process. So there, even if I didn’t want to, I felt obligated to. It’s part of therapy. Doctor’s orders, right? Right!
Let’s see, if you’re a new friend that I’m emailing, have we met before?
Dammit Lorna, just pretend it’s a different Logan. PRETEND! Let’s say, he’s a pen pal.
A pen pal? That is sooo 90’s!
You both have been exchanging emails for a few weeks, and you trust him. You feel comfortable with him. You can open up to him. And no, he doesn’t really know what you look like. It just never came up.
It never came up? As if, he’s a guy! That would be one of the top questions a guy would ask, but okay. Let’s PRETEND.
We’ve been exchanging emails for a few weeks now, and I’ve decided to give you a little description of myself. After all, we’ve never met each other and if you’re visual like me, it’s nice to be able to imagine the person you’re writing to.
I’m 28. I’m around 5’5. I’ve got long wavy brown hair that falls in the middle of my back, black frame glasses, and deep grey blue eyes. I’m curvaceous, as they say, and sport my double D-cup really well. I’ve got a nice ass, too, so I’ve been told by a past boyfriend. I’m a natural kind of a woman. Just your plain Jane from next door.
What a relief that no one, NO ONE will ever read this. They would think I was a real Looney tune character.
So what’s my deal? I’m getting to it.
I feel sad a lot. Nothing specific, just a general overall feeling and I was referred to Doctor Stevenson.
He’s an older man, not much older – maybe mid 30’s – clean looking, nicely built, he works out that’s for sure. He’s got a real professional look to him and a do-not-mess-with-me style. He’s a little too serious looking, but he has have kind eyes and a very cute butt. What? I’m sad, not dead! My eyes still work.
It was the end of our first therapy session and he looked over his notebook, staring me in the eye and said in a low voice, “Lorna…”
Those eyes…so deep and intense. I wondered what he thought of me and what he wrote about me in his notebook. I thought of his big hands and long fingers on my neck. Would his touch be light and soft? Maybe he’d be firm and insistent with me, even a little dominant. I do like a confident man.
One should not be fantasising about one’s therapist, Lorna! Lorna! Pay attention, he’s talking to you.
“…I’m glad you were referred to me. It can’t be easy going through life carrying those feelings around. It’s still early for a full diagnostic, but I have a general idea of what the underlying issue is and the approach that should be taken.”
“That’s good, I suppose,” Man, he has such a raspy and sexy voice. Would he whisper naughty things in my ears? That would surely send shivers down my spine and shocks to my pussy.
Stop that and focus, Lorna!
Right, focus! Well, he’s probably going to tell me that I’m suffering from depression and that I should be on medication.
Jeez, that’s the remedy for everything nowadays. Pills, pills and more pills. Oh and don’t forget a dash of therapy and a sprinkle of guilt to go through life feeling like a shattered piece of glass.
“So Doctor Stevenson, tell me. Just get it over with,” I said with a pleading voice while thinking to myself ‘Just get it out and shoot already. Put me out of this misery!’
“You’re reluctant to let happiness into your life.”
Say what know? What an asshole!
“Pardon me? Surely I misunderstood what you just said. You’re saying I’m pushing happiness away on purpose? That I’m choosing to feel like this? That I’m choosing sadness?” I said, looking him right in the eye, nostrils flaring and a look of disbelief on my face. It’s a good thing he wasn’t sitting beside me. I was ready to throw a punch.
“Lorna, I can feel your frustration,” he said in a reassuring voice. “And no, I’m not saying that you are consciously choosing not to be happy. But on a subconscious level, you may have undealt issues preventing you from moving forward in certain spheres of your life. Which in return, puts you in a state of constant sadness.” His tone was soft canlı bahis and poised.
My rage dissipated and I let out a breath I didn’t notice I was keeping in. My fingers loosed their grip on the fabric of my black skirt and my hands became moist. My anxiety and fears of not being adequate took over. I felt it rising in my body like a warm tide coming in.
“With that, I would like to give you some homework, or let’s call it an assignment, to do between our sessions.”
“Oh great!” I said, sighing.
“I want you to write in a journal. Just pretend you’re emailing a friend. I want you to focus on answering this question specifically: What would truly make Lorna happy? What does Lorna need to feel happiness in her life?” As he finished saying that, he added notes in his notebook.
“Yeah…I mean yes! Okay, I guess.”
He looked up, seeing the terror in my eyes, put his pen down, shifted his body on his chair and leaned in slightly forward. His eyes gazed back to mine. He continued with the most reassuring voice possible. I wondered if he could see my soul. His stare was that intense.
“Lorna, the journal is for your eyes only. I won’t make you tell me anything you’re not ready to or willing to share. This is not a test that you can fail. There are no wrong answers here. Understood?”
“Okay, you’re right. I can do this,” I whispered, unsure of myself and looking away from him.
“Perfect!” He closed his notebook on his knees before putting it on the table. He stood and reached over the ottoman separating us to extend his hand. I extended mine timidly and he shook it firmly, pressing his left hand on top of it.
“Good” he said and as he let go of my hand, he followed with, “Oh and Lorna, don’t forget to stop at the desk on your way out. Suzanne will give you your following appointments. I’d like to see you every two weeks. If need be just give me a call and we can re-adjust.” He handed me his business card. It had his personal phone number and a cell phone number on it.
“Of course.” Oh my god, can I just get out of here. Unwilling to let happiness into my life echoed in my ears. No wait, that’s not what he said. He said reluctant to let happiness into my life. Maybe there’s hope yet. I took the card.
I stopped at Suzanne’s desk to book my next appointments and left the office with a knot in my stomach wondering what waited for me.
So there you have it, Logan. That’s why I’m writing you.
– Chapter 1 –
Lorna was a private person. She kept to herself and didn’t have a large circle of friends. Not that she wasn’t friendly. She was. There was just many layers to her.
She felt things deeply and was sometimes overly empathetic and compassionate toward others, putting her own sanity on the line. It could be overwhelming and she thought this made her complicated.
She often found herself disappointed in people in general. Most of the people she encountered were not open minded enough or not profound enough, living life only superficially. All that to say, that often it was easier for her to stay on the sidelines, never really inside and part of it all.
She lived on her own in a modest condo in the middle of town, close to everything and worked for a pharmaceutical company as the CEO’s executive assistant.
She liked her job and was an excellent assistant. She prided herself on the quality of work she could bring to the company since she was very client oriented.
Her thoughtfulness served her well in her position and her boss respected and appreciated the work she did for him and for the office staff.
He knew that he could count on her for anything and everything. She was thorough and highly efficient. She worked longer hours than she should, poring all of herself into her work.
She wasn’t in a relationship and it was hard for her to meet men who understood her. In truth, it was probably because she couldn’t approach men all together or even look them in the eye, especially not the ones she was attracted to.
Love was complicated, sex was complicated, and intimacy was complicated.
She was bad at reading signs and her lack of confidence made it difficult for her to make the first move. She longed for a take-charge kind of man. One that would be able to read her and know that beneath all her shyness was a wild woman waiting to be unleashed.
She didn’t dare admit that to herself. Not yet anyway.
But then, she did have that relationship with Logan one year ago. Well, relationship may be too strong of a word. They were close friends. Lorna gave him her heart. He just didn’t know it.
They met one day waiting in line at a coffee shop.
It was a fall morning, the type of morning Lorna loved. The sun was shined and it was still early, around 7:00 a.m. It was cool outside and she loved the caressing feel of the cold air, the warmth of the sun on her cheeks, the smell of the leaves changing color.
It was still quiet when she got in front of bahis siteleri the coffee shop. There wasn’t too many people out and about downtown at that time in the morning, especially not on a Saturday.
She was surprised to see a small line-up, around 5 people and only one employee taking their orders. She seemed new and nervous. But Lorna wasn’t in any hurry and had nowhere to be.
She was lost in her thoughts when someone bumped into her from behind, pushing her forward. It knocked her completely off balance and she tried to break her fall by putting her arms out.
By doing so she ended up grabbing the tall manly figure in front of her by the left arm and pressing the weight of her body on his back, grabbing his right hip with her right hand. Her face landed in the middle of his back. For any onlooker who hadn’t seen the initial push, it would have simply looked like a woman tenderly hugging her lover from behind.
“Hey there” said a raspy voice. “Do you often hug strangers waiting in line for coffee?” He turned his head, looking at her with his crystal blue eyes.
She tried to center herself back on her feet, pressing her coat down her thighs and picking up her purse lying on the floor. Still, she felt like she couldn’t breathe.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered while trying to clear her throat. “Someone bumped into me and knocked me off balance.”
“Well, I’m happy I could be of help and prevent you from falling on your face,” he said with a small grin.
“Yes, thanks for that,” she mumbled trying desperately to avoid eye contact.
“Thanks for the cuddle.”
Lorna turned beet red. “Oh, I wasn’t – I mean – It’s the push. I wasn’t hugging…” She wanted to die right then and there. This gorgeous man teased her even though he clearly could tell how uncomfortable it made her. He seemed to enjoy seeing her stumble to recompose herself.
“Hey, I’m just teasing you. Don’t worry about it,” he said laughing. “How about I get your coffee? That should put your day back on track.” He still looked clearly amused by the situation.
“Oh, okay. If you insist.” She could barely think. She wasn’t about to start arguing with him. Still flushed, her eyes dropped down, but she manage to smile back.
“I’m Logan, by the way. And what should I call you, other than Cuddles?” he chuckled again.
“I’m Lorna,” she said shyly.
It never dawned on her that maybe that was his way of flirting with her. After ordering their coffee, he invited her to sit with him and that’s how Lorna met Logan.
Admittedly, she never thought a friendship would blossom from that first encounter, but it did. She would have liked for it to be more, but she was never able to bring herself to make the first move. Logan was a great guy. He knew how to have fun and pull Lorna out of her shell.
He always acted properly with her and never said anything that would bring her to think he viewed her in any other way. Then again, Lorna was clueless when it came to men.
They did plenty together and getting coffee was something they did on a regular basis. This went on for about 4 months and then one day Logan dropped a bomb.
“Lorna! I have great news. I was selected to be part of the new team that will be running the new case study.”
“Wow, Logan, that’s fantastic news.”
“It is. The only downside is that I need to move to the new location in two weeks. It’s very short notice and I’ll need to sublease my condo. I’m not sure how long the case study will last, it will depend on the results we get. I’m happy for the opportunity and this will be great for my career.” He sound over the moon telling her his news.
“That’s great…wait! What? You’re moving?” She let out a gasp.
“Well yes. I told you the team was going to be moving closer to head office, remember? Seeing that the head of the company wants to oversee the results first hand.”
“Oh…so, you’re moving 6 hours away.” She thought she was going to start crying right there.
“Lorna, we’re still going to be able to talk on the phone and skype. I’m not moving to another continent after all. Don’t be so dramatic!” he said, laughing and shrugging off her comment.
He grabbed her by the shoulders to bring her in for a warm hug. In any other circumstance she would have melted in his arms. But she couldn’t breathe and desperately tried to keep her composer.
Dramatic, he said.
That hit her like a ton of bricks.
Dramatic! Did he not know how I really felt about him?
DRAMATIC!! How could he say that. Of course he didn’t know how I felt about him.
She’d never said anything.
How could he know?
Like a balloon, she felt deflated and tossed to the side.
They emailed the first few months but then Lorna stopped writing him. It was too hard and she was heartbroken.
Her phone rang one day and she saw his name on the caller ID. She let it go to voicemail.
“Lorna, it’s Logan. Why aren’t you replying to my emails bahis şirketleri anymore? Why aren’t you taking my calls? Did I do something wrong? If I did, I’m so sorry. Please give me a call.” There was a pause and then he said, “Anytime of the day or night, Lorna. I promise I’ll pick up.” She could hear how worried he was. But if she called him back, she’d have to confess her feelings and that Lorna couldn’t. The voicemail ended with, “Don’t do this. You’re too important to me. Call me back Cuddles.”
She listened to it over and over. She loved when he called her Cuddles. That voice mail was from almost 4 months ago. Not a day went by without her thinking of him. He never called back, because of that, she thought she couldn’t possibly be that important to him.
First official journal entry
Today’s Friday and it’s my day off. Actually, I asked for the day off. It doesn’t happen often, but I needed it. This assignment ‘thing’ from Dr. Stevenson may not be easy and I don’t like to disappoint. So I figured that with the amount of leave I have banked, I may as well start using it once in a while.
The burning questions: What would truly make me happy? What do I need to feel happiness in my life?
Logan, that is such a good question. Don’t you think everyone asks themselves that? Money, fame, love…sex. Isn’t that what everybody wants?
I want to be seen Logan.
I want to be desired, understood.
I want to let go!
I want to stop censoring myself to fit in that cookie cutter shape, that prefabricated notion of what a proper woman should be like, what a good woman should say, think or act like.
I, Lorna, want to be noticed and seen for the extraordinary woman that’s right here, but that no one can see at first glance!
I want to let go of this controlling side of me and live a little. Damn society.
When’s the last time I had sex Logan? I’ll tell you. Right about the time I stopped replying to your emails. I was lonely and needed comfort.
My friend Logan had moved away. I was sad. I was way too drunk and an opportunity named Rick presented itself. Now, maybe it wasn’t the best decision ever. It certainly wasn’t the best sex ever, but it was something. Wasn’t it?
I needed to feel something other than the sadness that consumed me.
Rick sat sitting next to me at the bar. He wasn’t bad looking, and even drunk I could tell he was looking for a hookup. He kept looking my way, so I decided to talk to him.
Hell, I had so much liquid courage I didn’t care if he thought I was too forward. I asked him if he was looking for a good time. Yeah, I know, me of all people. Next thing I knew we were back at my place.
He kept touching my breasts, fondling them through my blouse. As I’ve mentioned my breasts are not small. Heavy, they need good support and are a handful.
Rick went at it with both his hands, pinning me against the wall. It didn’t take long for him to unbutton it. God, it felt good to be touched.
He rushed to take my blouse off and unsnap my bra. His fingers stroked my bare tits and he kept saying how soft they were, how the skin was naturally pale with a light pinkish cream color to them.
His fingers studied them, taking their time and discovering all the little freckles tracing and mapping my chest. He squeezed my left tit and traced his finger to my small pink areola, only about 1 inch in diameter. Circling my small pink nipple, he couldn’t help but bring his mouth to it. It was already out and about, ready for anything and everything – definitely a good suck and maybe a pinch, if I was lucky.
He removed his mouth and kept looking and tracing, stopping his finger on a little speck of a red freckles near my nipple and noticed the other one at the top of my breast.
Rick then moved to my right nipple, noticing its difference in size and shape, almost studying it and registering all this information in his mind for future reference.
It was slightly inverted and a little flatter on one side. He brought his mouth down and sucked hard since it needed extra stimulation to come out and play. That extra suction made me wail. It was extra sensitive to all and any stimulation. God how good it felt.
He eased up, teasing it with his tongue and his finger continued its discovery. He traced yet to another red freckle on the side of my right breast, closer to my armpit. He then moved back up to the top of my breast.
“Your breasts are gorgeous,” he whispered. “big and heavy.”
He enjoyed every second, and cupped both of them with his hands. As if being pulled by a magnet, he nuzzled his face into them. Then he pulled up and looked at me with his big brown eyes.
“They are pure comfort. I love being able to play with them.”
His head went back in a second time. He inhaled deeply and could smell my light wild blackberry perfume; which was a mix of bergamot, lavender and sage. It had a mild musk trail of a slightly woody nature to it.
“You smell like a sweet walk in the forest, Lorna,” he moaned between my tits.
And that’s where I fully gave in. I didn’t think about anything else but what it felt to be right there in the moment.
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