Why do we, or at least, why do I like familiarity? I've always wondered.

The answer was very obvious, of course, but that didn't stop me from asking - succumbing to the pressure society exerts on us to actively seek new things and new experiences, to put ourselves out there like the extroverts that we aren't.

Generally speaking, things that are familiar are likely to be safer than things that are not because it means that we have clearly survived exposure to it, and our brain, recognizing this, steers us towards it.

Something you're used to is less likely to hurt you.

So, in a way, from an evolutionary perspective, it makes sense that familiarity breeds liking.

Even if the stimuli you're being repeatedly exposed to are negative, you will subconsciously find comfort in the familiarity of it. 

The older I got, the more I understood.

I understood why I never asked for help no matter how many times I sneaked out of our tiny apartment, and why I didn't want to leave the streets at first. But most of all, I understood why my biological mother never stopped or questioned what she was doing.

Thus, one could say that we are hardwired to feel that the 'known devil is better than the unknown angel.'

These were dangerous thoughts to have. Recurrent, intrusive thoughts that wouldn't leave my head because I started to sympathize with the monster that brought me to this world and started seeing them as less of an evil living being and more of a human, a victim to its own life.

I wanted to hate her, to keep on loathing her but I couldn't hold on to my feelings of hatred...not when all I was taught after her was love, acceptance, forgiveness.

Heck, sometimes I wondered if familiarity was what made me love the Pattersons, that, maybe, I didn't truly care about them but simply reveled in the comfort they offered. 

That made me wonder, yet again, what if love was a flat-out function of familiarity over time and absolutely nothing else? Which, consequently, made the idea of love practically meaningless.

Truly, overthinking was the bane of humanity.

However, every time William hugged the nightmares away and Cathie prepared chocolate chip cookies and my favorite herbal tea, my growing dilemma would dissolve. The more I glanced at Ian, as well, the less I minded the significance or pointlessness of love. It felt good.

It felt so good to be surrounded by familiarity. If we were happy and content, that should be enough, right? But, if that was true, then why couldn't I shake these feelings of dread eating up at my insides and overwhelming me? Why do I feel stuck, helpless...a prisoner in my mind?

"What's wrong, Zia?" Ian bumped my shoulder with his. "You've been spacing out for a while now."

Worry creased his forehead, his eyes melting into mine.

I smiled. "I'm hungry, let's go grab something to eat."

It was safe to say that Ian and I have bonded over the course of the school year and even started summer jobs at the same coffee shop. 

After dropping him off at his place that day, we started greeting each other in the hallways which slowly evolved into short conversations about how my day or his was going then to him joining Dani and me under our tree.

Both of them hit it off over their obsession with video games and I loved watching them grumble at each other. It was a rare occasion to witness new facial expressions on Ian's face that usually only sported smiles and twinkling eyes.

Ian Martinez was a goofy kid at heart, shy, reserved, and very kind. He was as quiet as his dad and as fiery as his mom. His coal irises flickered with low-burning flames whenever they looked into mine, setting my soul ablaze.

Danielle was over the moon. She's never been happier, her teasing only worsened. Sometimes I would wonder if her happiness was because Ian and I finally got closer, or because she found new opportunities to poke fun at me.

I loved her nonetheless.

It was well into the summer when Ian and I were out cycling -  one of the many things he and I had in common. We both liked reading but had different tastes. I enjoyed baking, he preferred cooking. We both liked cats but he liked kittens more.

"Hey, Z?" I hummed, swinging my legs back and forth on the bench. "Do you, uh, do you have any plans this Saturday night?"

I faced him with furrowed eyebrows and puckered lips. "We usually go cycling in the evening and have a movie night afterward. Why?"

He rubbed the back of his head. "Nothing. I was just...I was just thinking maybe I could take you out on a date or something?" His statement sounded more like a question and I couldn't help the smile that slowly stretched my lips. 

Albeit awkward and unsure, it filled me with so much serenity and joy that my heart almost hammered its way out of my chest.

His request was so like him, soft, pure, uncertain, familiar. Nothing was out of the ordinary which made it ten times more special, at least to me.

Both of our faces were burning, our eyes looking ahead at the sun slithering down vast skies and hiding between dispersed clouds. Orange was spilled, spreading warmth throughout my body despite the chilly breeze.

Ian Martinez was beyond adorable and I didn't mind falling in love with him just because of his familiarity. It was because of it that my feelings were fully cemented. Unfamiliarity was what drove me to get to know him, his likes and dislikes, his quirks and ticks, his everything.

And, I fell for him. I fell for him slowly but hard.

"I would absolutely love to." 

Turning around so fast, Ian lost his balance and ended up sprawled on the ground with a surprised yelp. My throat closed up, holding back fits of laughter that were quickly swallowed down when I looked his way.

Raging flames crackled in his eyes, and my soul caught fire.

"You mean it?" He croaked.

"Yes," I breathed out.

Maybe love was special, maybe not. Whether it was magical, however, or simply feelings of comfort and closeness with someone didn't matter for love was beautiful, new, old, refreshing, comforting.

Familiarity chained my ex-mother to vicious cycles of nothingness and tied me to her until I finally chose to break free.

Familiarity helped me ease my anxiety, get used to a whole new life, and form meaningful relationships. It gave me a family, friends, and possibly a boyfriend.

It gave me everything and enhanced it all, but it also made me question myself more than I expected.

I thrived in my comfort zone, but for how long was I going to roll around covered in bubble wrap? I was no different than a package with the 'fragile, handle with care' label. I was damaged already, healing but my soul was scarred.

A bandaid wasn't going to fix my scars. Invisible wounds were the hardest to heal.

That's why, when a young woman with intense blue eyes approached me after Ian left, I chose to, after lots of sleepless nights,  follow her for she drove a hard bargain. 

Because her unfamiliarity was going to ease my disturbed familiarity.

A/N: rewrote this chapter one too many times *sigh* hope it came out decent!

Hmmm, I wonder who might this mysterious woman be? 🤔👀🤭