Haven't done this in a while.
Title: Possibly Inspired By Scott Pilgrim. Possibly by my love life. Probably both.
“It's snowing,” she pointed out as she looked over at me. I hadn't noticed, but once I stared up at the dark sky, I could see that she was right. I frowned.
“Something wrong?” she asked, then winced. “Other than the obvious, you know.”
“Yea...” I responded. I could hear my voice trail off and echo. “Alot of stuff, actually. It's just random things though, nothing focused. I feel scattered again, you know?”
“Like Jun?” she asked, and I shook my head.
“See, it's things like that. None of this is real, and I know it. You never read 10k. I didn't give you the link. You'd really like the art though.”
“That you've mentioned.” she said wistfully. “So, what else is wrong? Talk to me. It's why you're writing this, isn't it?”
I sat down on the swings and let myself sway back and forth. I could see my breath, and somehow, my brain knew that that shouldn't happen during the summer. “Well, first off, my brain is mirroring this with December Fourth.”
“The fourth?”
“Night of the fourth, technically the fifth. When I asked you out?”
She blushed. “Oh. Right.”
I looked down. “Yea. It was snowing then too. We sat on the bed and watched the snow come down. Do you remember that?” I knew she did. I didn't even look over to see her reaction.
“It makes sense,” she admitted. “Like a big cycle. You end where you start.”
“I guess,” I agreed verbally, but I couldn't feel like that was entirely correct. Either the circle was more complicated than I thought, or I hadn't gotten to the end of the cycle, because these breakups always suck differently.
“That's not it, Andrew. You know that. Why am I here?”
That one made me look down, kind of ashamed. “Because I feel like I can't talk to anyone else. Not that they wouldn't listen. They would, but talking to them doesn't...feel as cathartic as talking to you does.”
“We always end up fighting though. That's all it's been this last week. One fight after another.”
I bit back the urge to start one with a shot at her. I swallowed slowly and exhaled. “You know there's reasons for that. I'm bad with this kind of thing. I always give too much.”
She couldn't argue with that. She fell silent too, and for a few seconds there was just tense echoes. I was the next one to speak again. “And I guess that's why you're here.”
“What?”
“So I can talk, without actually talking to you. If it was really you, I'd want to yell and scream. This way, we can have a conversation. Even if it devolves into an argument, you're not real, so she won't get hurt. Does that make any sense?”
“I guess.”
“Why wouldn't it?”
“She's gonna read this. Because you know you're going to post it. You always do.”
“Well, yea...that's why I'm being careful about what I'm saying. No need to air dirty laundry.”
“You mean sexy laundry?”
“You haven't seen that move. Stop making references to things you shouldn't know. I'm trying to suspend disbelief here.”
“Sorry.” Another pause. “So, do you hate me?”
I stopped, and sighed. “I've explained this before, Xela.”
“For the audience, at least?”
“No, I don't hate you. I should. God knows there's plenty of reasons, but you know how important the girls in my life are. How many stories do I tell about Jen? About Maggie? About Bridget? I don't hate any of them, despite how much the breakups sucked. It's the same way with you. I just...it's hard to be around you. It's going to be worse this weekend.”
“Why?”
“I was supposed to visit. If you think anything except that is going to be on my mind, you're insane. I dwell. I obsess, for hell's sake. I'm going to until you're in Spain, and then it'll get worse, and then it'll slowly get better until the next time I hear from you, and we'll start over again.”
She pursed her lips. “I shouldn't talk to you anymore.”
“I didn't say that. I just said it was going to suck. I do a lot of things that hurt, remember? It was a new years resolution from last year.”
“It's a dumb one,” she muttered sourly. “You shouldn't hurt.”
“Yea...” I agreed. “Shouldn't, but do. Big suprise.” I got up off the swings, the snow had almost stopped entirely. “Listen, I need to go.”
“Did this help?”
“I don't know. It's part of a process. Don't know where it goes now.”
“Will you be happy?”
“Can't tell you that. It would be a lie. I don't know the answer yet. I'll figure it out and...”
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“What, Andrew?”
“And maybe when I've figured out where I'm going, you'll have figured out what you want, and we could try again.”
“I can't promise that.”
“I know. I still want to though, eventually. Maybe not now, or at Christmas, or even next year...but eventually, alright?”
“I can't promise that.”
I nodded. “I'm going to go now. Sorry about all of it.”
“I should be the one who's sorry. Didn't we agree on that?”
“Doesn't mean I don't feel bad. It was my relationship too, even if I didn't end it. Goodnight, Xela.”
“It's snowing,” she pointed out as she looked over at me. I hadn't noticed, but once I stared up at the dark sky, I could see that she was right. I frowned.
“Something wrong?” she asked, then winced. “Other than the obvious, you know.”
“Yea...” I responded. I could hear my voice trail off and echo. “Alot of stuff, actually. It's just random things though, nothing focused. I feel scattered again, you know?”
“Like Jun?” she asked, and I shook my head.
“See, it's things like that. None of this is real, and I know it. You never read 10k. I didn't give you the link. You'd really like the art though.”
“That you've mentioned.” she said wistfully. “So, what else is wrong? Talk to me. It's why you're writing this, isn't it?”
I sat down on the swings and let myself sway back and forth. I could see my breath, and somehow, my brain knew that that shouldn't happen during the summer. “Well, first off, my brain is mirroring this with December Fourth.”
“The fourth?”
“Night of the fourth, technically the fifth. When I asked you out?”
She blushed. “Oh. Right.”
I looked down. “Yea. It was snowing then too. We sat on the bed and watched the snow come down. Do you remember that?” I knew she did. I didn't even look over to see her reaction.
“It makes sense,” she admitted. “Like a big cycle. You end where you start.”
“I guess,” I agreed verbally, but I couldn't feel like that was entirely correct. Either the circle was more complicated than I thought, or I hadn't gotten to the end of the cycle, because these breakups always suck differently.
“That's not it, Andrew. You know that. Why am I here?”
That one made me look down, kind of ashamed. “Because I feel like I can't talk to anyone else. Not that they wouldn't listen. They would, but talking to them doesn't...feel as cathartic as talking to you does.”
“We always end up fighting though. That's all it's been this last week. One fight after another.”
I bit back the urge to start one with a shot at her. I swallowed slowly and exhaled. “You know there's reasons for that. I'm bad with this kind of thing. I always give too much.”
She couldn't argue with that. She fell silent too, and for a few seconds there was just tense echoes. I was the next one to speak again. “And I guess that's why you're here.”
“What?”
“So I can talk, without actually talking to you. If it was really you, I'd want to yell and scream. This way, we can have a conversation. Even if it devolves into an argument, you're not real, so she won't get hurt. Does that make any sense?”
“I guess.”
“Why wouldn't it?”
“She's gonna read this. Because you know you're going to post it. You always do.”
“Well, yea...that's why I'm being careful about what I'm saying. No need to air dirty laundry.”
“You mean sexy laundry?”
“You haven't seen that move. Stop making references to things you shouldn't know. I'm trying to suspend disbelief here.”
“Sorry.” Another pause. “So, do you hate me?”
I stopped, and sighed. “I've explained this before, Xela.”
“For the audience, at least?”
“No, I don't hate you. I should. God knows there's plenty of reasons, but you know how important the girls in my life are. How many stories do I tell about Jen? About Maggie? About Bridget? I don't hate any of them, despite how much the breakups sucked. It's the same way with you. I just...it's hard to be around you. It's going to be worse this weekend.”
“Why?”
“I was supposed to visit. If you think anything except that is going to be on my mind, you're insane. I dwell. I obsess, for hell's sake. I'm going to until you're in Spain, and then it'll get worse, and then it'll slowly get better until the next time I hear from you, and we'll start over again.”
She pursed her lips. “I shouldn't talk to you anymore.”
“I didn't say that. I just said it was going to suck. I do a lot of things that hurt, remember? It was a new years resolution from last year.”
“It's a dumb one,” she muttered sourly. “You shouldn't hurt.”
“Yea...” I agreed. “Shouldn't, but do. Big suprise.” I got up off the swings, the snow had almost stopped entirely. “Listen, I need to go.”
“Did this help?”
“I don't know. It's part of a process. Don't know where it goes now.”
“Will you be happy?”
“Can't tell you that. It would be a lie. I don't know the answer yet. I'll figure it out and...”
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“What, Andrew?”
“And maybe when I've figured out where I'm going, you'll have figured out what you want, and we could try again.”
“I can't promise that.”
“I know. I still want to though, eventually. Maybe not now, or at Christmas, or even next year...but eventually, alright?”
“I can't promise that.”
I nodded. “I'm going to go now. Sorry about all of it.”
“I should be the one who's sorry. Didn't we agree on that?”
“Doesn't mean I don't feel bad. It was my relationship too, even if I didn't end it. Goodnight, Xela.”