Its time to finally choose.

Its time to finally choose.

He loved home. He loved the familiarity. The feeling that he can walk around with eyes closed knowing he was safe. Knowing that tap in the bathroom that always dripped.

That at night, the branch hit the window and sounded like a plea of help, urgent and desperate. He had searched for that noise when they first moved in and realized what it was.

Now it was soothing. Almost like music.

He loved the familiarity.

Of her. The one thing that had never changed. But it would. There was no other choice.

It was as inevitable as the setting of the sun. It had to happen. Unless they went out of their way to run from it and even then it would eventually catch up.

He knocked at her door.

She had never meant anything more than a friend to him. But how much of a difference that had made was unexplainable. He didn’t question or wonder why she would want to spend time with him or listen to him. She had to. That is what she was there for. And now they were older. He was making a decision to not be how they had always been. Together.

He knocked again.

He had cried holding her. And laughed while beating her up. He had written about her eyes and those thinking stares.
Her.
And now he was going. To bigger things. To bigger dreams.
To better people, too, maybe.

Maybe.

She was certainty.

Disagreements

She walked over to his house and knocked.

“Hi Aunty.” She whispered from a face that was red from crying.

“He is in. Did you two fight?” Aunty asked.

“I guess so.” She whimpered.

“It’ll be fine. Go talk to him. He has been waiting, I am sure.” Aunty patted her head as she walked towards his room door.

She knocked and pushed the door slightly. And there he was. Talking to someone on the phone, smiling.

Theatrical as it was she would have liked him on the bed crying his eyes out too. Then an apology would not have seemed misplaced. Now it would.

She turned around and closed the door. She walked herself out and started walking rapidly. Then burst out crying.

When did life become about misplaced apologies? They grew up together and it didn’t matter who pushed who after they had settled it with a punch. Growing up and talking things out sucked. Punching is better.

She sat on a bench and continued crying. She’d look left hoping to see him walking towards her and then hugging her tightly.

But he didn’t come.

So she walked home. Drank soup and read about eternal friendships. And cursed books some.

They make you think you know everything. Just because you read about it in a crappy novel doesn’t make you a subject matter expert.

Her phone rang. It was him.

“Hello.”

“Are we okay?” His now-deep voice said.

“Asshole.” She whispered.

“Can we stop explaining and just be fine again?” He asked softly.

“Let me think. I have cried a lot since yesterday.” She sighed.

“Can we stop explaining and just be fine again?” He asked again.

“Only if I can punch you.”

“Deal.” He smiled.

Life was fine again. Like the times when everything was settled with a punch. Even heartbreaks.