This can't be happening...

[renewedsoul_v]

Nothing feels real right now. It's like I'm trapped in this horrible nightmare that I can't get out of. What else could you possibly call the psycho mobster that wanted to use my face as his own personal canvas, and threatened to do to me what his goons did to my car tracking us all the way here and shooting Logan (and if not for my dad, me too)? I

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[renewedsoul_v]

"I know you did. I get that you just want what's best for me. I just... Logan makes me so happy... I wish you could see that." Even though we ran to the other side of the country in what was apparently a futile attempt at staying safe, I was never doubting that it was the right thing, I was never scared. I knew we could make it work somehow. Keep each other grounded. He was probably the only person in the world who could distract me even a little from how much I was missing my dad the entire time we were here.

"And just, you know, for the record? I did try not to love him for pretty much the entire time we weren't together. It turns out that whole concept was flawed and impossible." I said, trying to tease. Thankfully Logan seems to have moved past the need to be constantly destructive or I don't know how we ever would have worked. He still has things he has to work through, but he knows he's got at least one person he can count on to help him deal with it all. This time he knows I'm not about to bail on him...or he'd better after the way I didn't back down about the nightmares... assuming he makes it through.

"Tell me some good news." I asked suddenly, "Things are still going okay with you and Mrs. Fennel, right?" It was my dad's turn to distract me, keep me from obsessing and making myself sicker than I already am with worry. He probably thinks I'm convinced I don't need him. Not true. I just wished he could see that I'm 18, not 8, and I need some room to make choices and a life of my own as much as I need him to be this safe place for me in the storm of real life.

"Not fair... you know I can't turn down cookies." I pouted to him as I snuggled into his shoulder again.

Okay, so I might not be 8, but I was going to keep acting like a clingy little daddy's girl for the foreseeable future. Not that I think he minds.