Tales From An Average Girl: The Messy Chronicles

Foreword

Please be advised that this book contains naughty language, intimate encounters (which might either tantalize or leave you wanting more—we appreciate your spirited enthusiasm and will strive to meet your desires), a cast of characters that includes both those we adore and those we can't help but despise, sprinklings of humor, dashes of sarcasm, poignant moments of sorrow, and regrettably, raw portrayals of real-life issues, including instances of abuse.

With this forewarning in hand, we invite you to immerse yourself in the world of an average girl in a very messy world.

The Postman Should Never Ring Twice

Nicole

Chapter One

Growing up, cousins often formed our earliest friendships, but my entry into this familial rite of passage was belated. All my cousins were significantly older, leaving me behind in shared experiences. It wasn’t until I was 23 that I formed an unbreakable bond with one of my cousins, Nicole. Our connection blossomed unexpectedly, and soon, we were inseparable partners in crime in the truest sense.

Nicole, nine years my senior, had a distinct and captivating appearance. Her fair skin was the perfect canvas to highlight her striking hazel eyes, which sparkled with a blend of green and brown hues. For as long as I could remember, glasses had been a part of her signature look, each pair reflecting a facet of her dynamic personality. They weren’t just an accessory but an extension of her tenacious spirit.

Standing at 5’6", she carried a sense of presence that belied her height, her curvy figure accentuating her confidence. Nicole treated her hair like a form of self-expression, always styled in a shoulder-length bob, but she loved experimenting with various colors and styles, each new look mirroring her mood or the latest chapter in her life.

Nicole, with her flamboyant and unapologetic approach to life, was always a character. In all truth, Nicole was a bit of a hoe. Now, before you go judging me, hear me out. She had a way of diving headfirst into the world of dating, often guided more by material desires than emotional connection. Her approach to relationships often focused on what a man could provide materially rather than what could be shared emotionally. It’s fair to say that her choices in men often left much to be desired.

Among the multitude of suitors that paraded through her life, one stood out, in the worst way possible. His name is Ethan, however, in our circle, he is known as ‘Postal Dude’, or PD for short. While lacking in creativity, the nickname stuck and seemed fitting for the man who left such a memorable impression for all the wrong reasons.

Nicole’s path crossed with PD in 2015, a fortuitous meeting that took place amid the mail-filled corridors of the postal service. It’s here that the nickname ‘Postal Dude’ found its roots, an apt moniker for the man who would become a significant chapter in her life. From the outset, they were a perfect match, sharing common interests and an undeniable chemistry. I remember feeling a surge of hope for her; PD appeared to be a step up from her usual string of fleeting romances.

Their relationship escalated quickly. Who am I kidding?! They started dating, and by dating, I mean sleeping together. Despite my gentle prodding for Nicole to take things slow and get to know him, she was all in from the first date. The morning after, I was privy to every detail, her excitement painting a picture of a woman utterly captivated. I sometimes question if her heart lived in her vagina. Given Nicole’s history, I harbored doubts about the longevity of this whirlwind romance, but as time passed, their connection seemed to deepen into something more substantial.

However, a year into their relationship, the initial enthusiasm had settled into a plateau of uncertainty. Nicole began to confide in me about her longing for a more profound commitment, her dreams of settling down, and even starting a family. I could sense her desire for a stable future, a significant departure from her usual carefree romances.

But there was a hitch in her plan. Despite the intimacy they shared, Nicole’s presence in PD’s life seemed confined to the weekends. Her belongings, like herself, were temporary fixtures in his house, disappearing by the start of each week. PD was dragging his feet using the typical excuses of Why should we mess up a good thing? or I want the same things you do, but I don’t want to rush and screw things up between us as I have done in the past. This arrangement, to me, was a red flag waving high. A man who insists on keeping his living space devoid of any trace of his partner hints at secrets lurking beneath the surface.

Am I the only one seeing the red flags here, as clear as day?

Yet, Nicole, lost in the chaos of her feelings, was blind to the warning signs. It felt like watching a car hurtling towards an inevitable crash, and despite my desperate internal screams for it to stop, the disaster was unavoidable. I stood witness to this unfolding drama, my heart heavy with the suspicion of impending heartache.

Chapter Two

Nicole’s attempts to steer their relationship towards a more committed future seemed to echo unheard in PD’s ears with each passing week. That is, until one unexpected afternoon when she called me, bubbling with ecstatic joy. Her excitement was infectious, and we agreed to meet for dinner to celebrate and delve into the details.

I had barely exited my car at the restaurant when Nicole bounded towards me, her hand thrust forward to reveal a sparkling engagement ring. Looking at the ring, and seeing the unmistakable radiance of pure joy on Nicole’s face, I felt foolish for ever doubting PD.

So, spill the details! I urged, my curiosity piqued.

Looking back, I was in no way prepared for the story I was about to hear, and neither are you.

She began her story as we sat at our table and ordered two Margaritas. We went to Grand Lux Café on Saturday evening, she began, her eyes alight with the memory. It is my absolute favorite place. It is like the Cheesecake Factory but grander. We were deep in conversation about our future, something I never thought he’d be open to, and then... Her voice trembled with emotion. After dessert, I returned from the restroom to find a little black box beside my plate. It was like a scene from a romantic movie – he was on one knee, the ring gleaming, the whole restaurant bursting into applause when I said ‘yes.’

My heart swelled for her happiness, though a part of me couldn’t shake the feeling that it was all too surreal, like a page out of a fairy tale. But everyone deserves their fairy-tale moment, right?! As Nicole continued, detailing every aspect of her engagement, I couldn’t help but notice the ring. It was elegant yet understated – a gold band with a pear-shaped diamond – not quite Nicole’s usual flamboyant style. Nicole has always been one of those women where everything she owned had to have a label.

Curious, I asked to take a closer look at the ring. As she slipped the ring off, an interesting engraving caught my eye, All We Need C & L 04/10/95. The mysterious initials sent my mind reeling. Who the hell were C and L? The question hung in the air, unspoken yet heavily present, adding an unexpected twist to what was already an unbelievable tale.

As I held the ring, puzzling over the engraving, it struck me – the initials C & L were a mystery, unrelated to Nicole or Ethan. My confusion was evident, and noticing my perplexed expression, Nicole pressed, What’s wrong?

Nicole, who the fuck are C & L? I blurted out, unable to mask my surprise. She flushed a deep red and quickly reclaimed the ring, muttering, I should never have let you see it.

What does that mean? I pressed, my curiosity turning to concern. Nicole hesitated, clearly torn between honesty and holding back.

Nicole, you can trust me. What’s the story with this ring? I urged gently.

With a heavy sigh and a swig of her margarita, she recounted her past few blissful weeks with PD; a tale that left me questioning every aspect of their relationship. According to Nicole, postal workers like her and PD often team up for longer routes. It had become routine for her and PD to work a route together. This is the first I have heard of this, but it is a common occurrence for them. During one such shift, Nicole found a ring in the grass near a mailbox. While any normal person, myself included, would have sought its rightful owner, PD had other plans – he kept the ring, intending to assess its value for potential sale.

I was screaming internally at this point. The sheer audacity of their plan was shocking. Who the fuck does that? I thought, appalled at the idea of not returning the ring to its owner.

Nicole revealed that PD had held onto the ring for five months.

Yes, I said that correctly. FIVE MONTHS! Now, let's do that math! She discovered the ring around month 11 of their relationship, as they were 16 months in at this point. He had a whole five months to make a decision about the ring – whether to return it or even stick to the initial plan of selling it to purchase a ring for my cousin. The possibilities were wide open for an ass like him.

I fumed as the unfortunate truth continued to hit me like a ton of bricks – PD had proposed to Nicole with a ring she found, a ring that belonged to someone else. What an absolute asshole!

Nicole, do you realize how insane this sounds? I asked, incredulous. How can you accept a ring that’s not even meant for you, one that he didn’t bother to buy himself? Hell, he could have gone to Walmart. He could’ve chosen any ring that genuinely symbolized his commitment to you. This is absolute bullshit!

I could see my words struck a chord as tears welled in her eyes. Her voice trembled with a mix of defiance and heartbreak, Why can’t you just be happy for me?

Because this doesn’t sit right with me, I replied, my voice clear with concern. You deserve so much better than this. I don't understand why you can't see that.

Her response was silent but profound – she gathered her belongings and left the restaurant without another word. I remained there, stunned, grappling with the magnitude of what I had just learned. It marked the beginning of a seven-month silence between us, a painful gap in a relationship once so close.

Chapter Three

Despite my earnest attempts, Nicole remained unreachable, ignoring my calls and messages. I wrestled with a sense of guilt over my blunt words, yet a part of me felt no regret. Someone needed to speak up, and I’ve never been one to shy away from the truth. In my eyes, PD was nothing but trouble, a conclusion hard to ignore. Deep down, I wondered if it was my place to intervene. Honestly, could anyone stand by silently in such a situation?

I had almost resigned myself to the possibility that Nicole might never reconnect with me, especially while she was with PD It was a tough pill to swallow, missing the bond we once shared. But in my heart, I understood her silence, painful as it was. Letting go, I realized, is sometimes the only way to let someone you love find their path.

Imagine my shock when a familiar ring of the doorbell shattered the quiet of a Saturday evening seven months later. Standing there was Nicole, her eyes brimming with tears, surrounded by her bags.

Nicole, I called out softly, beckoning her inside. She stepped in, and we embraced, her sobs filling the