just so long as this thing's loaded
I had a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad Thanksgiving, to quote that cute little book that we all read at least once in the second grade. But Thanksgiving is not important. The meal was fantastic, as usual. I spent wonderful time with my family, laughing, talking, making fun. We played football and my team won, for the first time in years. And then my grandfather, in his old age and senility, asked after dinner, when Stephan and I were getting married. I don't remember Stephan's exact response, but whatever he said left the family with a lovely impression and they questioned me about it no more. I really don't remember much after that conversation, except that Stephan kept giving me these queer looks every once in a while. It was unnerving -- the kind of lovey-dovey look you expect from a man truly in love. I suppose that I must have reciprocated these looks, for no one suspected that in my mind I was burning Stephan at the stake.
In the car on the way home, I finally regained some semblance of consciousness.
"Come with me back to San Francisco."
"What?"
He reached over and turned off the music. "Come back with me to San Francisco."
"No, I heard you the first time. What do you mean come back with you to San Francisco?"
"Remember how we used to talk about getting a little apartment by the bay and you and I were going to be writers and you would take photos to pay the rent?"
"Yeah, I remember that. That was so long ago."
"Well, I found a little apartment. Near Fisherman's Wharf. I want you to come and live out our dream."
"No."
"No?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"I can't. Didn't I make it clear to you that I don't want you back? No."
"Okay. If you don't want to go, then I can't make you."
*silence*
"But I want you to know that this is an open invitation. I will wait for you."
"Don't waste your time waiting."
In the sleet and rain, he took his eyes off the road, and turned to me. "I love you, you know I do. And I want you to come with me. Just let me know when you are ready."
Silence pervaded both sides of the car. I sat, uncomfortable with the situation before me, yet unable to make any kind of decision. I cannot go with Stephan. I cannot go with Stephan. I cannot go with Stephan. But I really want to.
// right now is all that matters
KiLL