Sorbet Glaze

She always believed in passion – not really love, but passion. Her name was Savannah. She was a native to San Diego, California, and loved every minute of it. She carried a long mane of golden blonde hair down her rib-cage. She had a glistening smile and cotton-candy cheeks. Savannah always seemed to meet the right man at the right time; each being the perfect flame for that perfect time in her life. The flame just kept burning out. Mike was the current fire in her life.

She was often questioned why she moved on so quickly to another man when each one seemed to suit her so flawlessly. Savannah always knew that was the problem. Each and every man was just too perfect for her. Her sister, Mel, always hoped she would settle down so they could let their future children grow up together. Mel knew this was just a fantasy, but clung to it as each year passed. Mel was married – most days happily, other days thinking, is he really the man I’m meant to be with forever? These thoughts came and went just like Savannah’s boyfriends.

Savannah and Mel often fantasized as teenagers what their future husbands would look like, act like, even smell like. Savannah wondered what would be their favorite beach, would they like the same frozen drinks, and would they ever consider swinging. Yes, swinging. Savannah was always curious about exploring her sexuality with women but never was open with her boyfriends. Mike would kill her if he knew. He might really kill her.

Mel was more predictable. She enjoyed going to book-stores and brunch in the city. She wondered if her future husband would share her joy of scrap-booking and do-it-yourself home projects. Both sisters knew what they wanted, but Savannah always struggled to commit. It all just seemed so final.

Savannah loved the outdoors. Even though she loved a good hand-stone massage, she couldn’t get enough of running, biking, and climbing any mountain she could find. Her hikes usually involved an Ipod, good pair of shades, a mini backpack full of lemonade and strawberries, and an old pink bandana wrapped among her golden hair.

Savannah felt different today as she laced up her running shoes for a long morning hike. Some days she felt high, not high from indulging in any sort of drug, but a natural, extreme happiness. Other days, she just felt bored and complacent, as if everything was moving in slow-motion. She knew deep down that she was the unpredictable type, but earnestly wanted to change that. Sometimes.

Each hill seemed harder today and the sun felt warmer on her face. Above the mountain top, she noticed shades of pink and orange lightly touching the sun; she always liked to call it a sorbet glaze. She giggled each time she said it. Upon coming across each stream of water, she would sit down and splash her hands around, just like a child would. As the time went by, and the sweat began to stick to her body, like a second-skin, and she thought about each failed relationship and what actually went wrong. She realized a pattern.

Am I crazy? Why do I keep pushing everyone fuckin away? It’s like I’m afraid to get close to them if they break my heart. I’m breaking my heart anyway. I'm a fuckin disaster.

She kicked up some rocks and sat on the nearest tree branch she saw. She gulped her lemonade and closed her eyes for a moment. She heard some footsteps approach her and looked up.

“Hey Savannah, how are you doing?”

It was Dr. Harrison. He told Savannah he liked to hike sometimes too as a stress-reliever. She never thought she would bump into him here though. She thought he said it just to fuck her. She did fuck him though, at the end of a session once. She sat on his desk, in her shortest skirt and spread her legs. Yes, just like in the movies. They fucked for a few hours that day.

“Hi Dr. I’m well, just taking a break.”

The sweat began to pour down her shoulders and Dr. Harrison began to rub them for her. She was getting over-heated from the sun and from his fingers laced upon her collar-bone. She decided to lightly move his hands off her shoulders with a light smile. She wanted to fuck him but knew she couldn't, not here. There were kids around. What the fuck, she thought.. That would be horrible.

“How are the medications working this week since we changed them?”

“They’re okay, I think they’re starting to slow some of my impulsive behavior down.”

“That’s good, it may take some time. Remember to go to group tonight if you can.”

“Yes I’ll be there.”

Dr. Harrison smiled, nodded, and went on his way. Savannah was sun-burnt and ready to go too. She dusted some of the dirt off her and got into her car to drive home.

After stopping for a quick smoothie, she walked into her apartment, slid out of her tank and shorts, and jumped into the shower; looking through her closest eagerly, she pulled out a tight white sun dress, with the perfect V-neck cut to show some cleavage and her tan skin. About fifteen minutes later she arrived to the meeting. She took a seat next to her friend Allen. They fucked once after group but now were trying to be friends. Yes, friends.

Each person started to introduce themselves around the room. Savannah was next. She caught the glimpse of a new guy in group: he was tan, bright blue eyes, sand-blonde hair, and definitely a surfer of some sort. He was hot, really fuckin hot.

“Hi, I’m Savannah. I’m a sex addict.”

The group chanted back,

"Welcome Savannah.”

She texted Mike and told him she had to cancel their date and she would make it up to him. Savannah had other plans tonight.

She always believed in passion – not really love, but passion.