Hi everyone, Morgan here. Lynn’s writing about me and Tanner right now, actually. The story is so new it still doesn’t even have a title yet, but I thought it’d be fun if I came on over to say hi on her week of love.
Because, let me tell you, I have a wicked-awesome love story.
But today, I wanna tell you how I met, Tanner. It was kind of a strange first meeting, considering I met him the night I died.
Yep, you heard–er–read right.
I was out late one night, well, if you want to get technical, it was really early in the morning, like 2am. I was meeting my dealer. I just had to have another score. I know, it was stupid, believe me, I learned my lesson.
I know you’re probably wondering, how I can be here typing this if I died, right?
Or maybe not, but I’m gonna tell you anyway.
While that demon drained my entire body of all my blood and I was dying, I begged God for a second chance. I mean, I had to make up for all the drugs, lying, cheating, stealing, prostituting . . . .
So, while I was lying there listening to my last heart beat, I heard the most soothing, baritone voice ever. It told me I’d been granted a second chance.
I hadn’t seen the source of that harmonic voice but suddenly found myself at Fraiser’s Diner–that’s where I work. It was the next day, and I totally wasn’t feeling very good–I mean, who would when they had died the night before, right?
Anyway, I got this killer headache all of a sudden, then heard the sweet voice again. I looked up and sure enough he was standing there, staring at me with his slate eyes.
Kinda creeped me out at first to tell you the truth. So much that I almost dropped my tray of plates, which were filled with food. Would have been a nightmare mess.
He just stared at me and when I finally found my voice I asked what is issue was. It kinda went like this:
“Thought you needed a hand through your withdrawals,” he said.
“Two years of drugs, stopped cold turkey like that can put out some serious withdrawal and you’re needed at work today. No time to be sick.”
“It’s almost over.” He smiled, creating a dimple just below his left eye.
“What do you mean it’s almost over?”
“You’re withdrawals. You felt the headache coming on but now it’s gone, right?”
I nodded, still entranced by his steel eyes. And now, frustratingly, his lips. They shimmered like he’d just put on some of my lip balm.
“That was just the beginning. I figured I’d ease you through it. But if you’d rather go rushing to the toilet and puke your brains out, I could always step aside.”
Kind of a jerk, with the “…if you’d rather go rushing to the toilet…” comment, huh? Then again, I probably sounded like a bumbling idiot to him.
Things got pretty interesting after that, but more on that some other time. I want to hear about how you met your special someone. . .