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.