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Eight Weeks: Chapter 58


“but I know now I found the one I love”—I GUESS I AM IN LOVE by Clinton Kane


Who would have thought trying to get to a stupidly small village by public transport would be an Olympic sport? Not me, that is for sure.

But now that I have been in Germany for six hours, currently still waiting for my stupid bus to take me to Sofia’s village, I am starting to believe I should have rented a car. Though, apparently, I am not allowed to drive here because I don’t have an international driver’s license.

I’ve read somewhere that I can still drive a car up to six months of being here, only then would I need a German driver’s license, but I’d rather not end up in jail for getting my facts wrong.

Could I go to jail for driving a car with a license that is not accepted here? What if I just said I didn’t know? Because I didn’t until Sofia told me that one time, and nobody could ever proof I did know.

Anyway, I am currently missing my graduation party for this. Yup, as it seems, I’d rather spend one fourth of a day waiting on busses and trains and tractors to get me to Sofia instead of partying and celebrating finishing college.

Oh, yes, tractors. I came across one of Sofia’s neighbors and they took me to the next bus stop because I was too stupid to find it. He said he would take me to her house, but I refused. I didn’t want to be a burden or make his life difficult.

Sofia doesn’t know I’m coming today, she thinks I’ll arrive tomorrow morning, but I just couldn’t wait another day. These past eight weeks have been torture without her. The first half more than the last.

While waiting, I decide to send Sofia another of those texts I’ve sent her a month ago, only to make her believe I’m wasted and will definitely not show up in hopefully an hour or two at most.


Aaron: I want to fuck you so bad right now.


It’s not even a lie. My dick is aching to get back inside her, fucking my hand for a month straight really isn’t doing it. One month only because the one before was filled with pain and the worst hangovers I’ve ever had.

Worst bit, even though I get to hold Sofia in my arms again starting today, I still won’t get to fuck her though.


Sofia: I had a great day, thanks for asking, Sir always-so-romantic.


Aaron: Sorry. Let me try again:


Aaron: I have the strong desire to roughly insert my dick inside of you. I might even light up a candle, my little ketchup packet.


Sofia: Are you on drugs?



Am I on drugs? If being in love counts as one, then yes, unfortunately.

I never wanted to fall in love, so what the fuck happened? Sofia, I suppose. Glad it’s her, I don’t think I would have much love inside of me for anyone but her anyway, but seriously, come on. I am pussywhipped, and I cannot, for the life of me, understand why it had to be the one woman who lives on a whole other continent than me.




An hour later, I finally made it. Only that nobody is at home.

I rang the doorbell like six times, but the door stays closed. Just great.

After spending hours on an airplane and at least seven hours on the road to get here, I am exhausted. Now imagine my annoyance having to find out that nobody is at home.

Just when I drop down by the front door, ready to wait for the rest of the day until someone comes home, the front door of the house across from the Carlsen’s opens, and Jane appears.

She smiles at me even before jogging over to me. “Didn’t think I’d see you again,” she says, laughing a little.

“Why not?” I’ll be here whenever I’m off from hockey, so much I can promise everyone. The second I have a couple of days to spare, I’ll be on the next flight to see Sofia. A long-distance relationship isn’t ideal, but it hasn’t killed anyone yet, right?


“I don’t know, I figured Sofia would move in with you, now that she’s done with Uni, and I believe so are you?” Jane takes a seat on the concrete across from me, crossing her legs. “I watched the Carlsen’s put moving boxes into their car all morning. Haven’t gotten to ask Sofia about them yet, but it looked awfully a lot like she’s moving. From what I could tell, every box had her name on it, nobody else’s.”

Please let this be a joke. I cannot take another couple of hours driving all through Germany to find her.

“She hasn’t said anything.” I think I would know if Sofia planned to move in with me, right? It wouldn’t be a problem, in fact, I would prefer this over long-distance shit, but I will not persuade her into moving to the U.S., and I know she doesn’t want me giving up hockey for her, so going long-distance is all we have.

“As far as I know, Sofia went to the barn. Or at least that’s what it looked like, so maybe try finding her there.”

Sighing heavily, I get up even though my bones are begging me not to.

I swear, traveling for a whole day is worse than hockey practice.


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