He was honestly sick of this. He considered that the most likely reason for her to storm out was simply to see if he would come after her. That’s why he didn’t want to give in; he didn’t want to play these types of games. How did he end up in one of these kinds of relationships? He considered that this was a pretty selfish type of thought though; valuing his own ego over her safety. If a platonic male friend, with suicidal tendencies, stormed out of his house, he would find him and make sure he was ok. This idea is what caused him spring up like his whole life had led to this foregone conclusion.
He climbed into the rig, and his foot shook on the clutch. His hand turned the key in the ignition clumsily, pushing a bit too hard. He took off and the car rocked a bit like it did when he drove a stick the first time. He reconsidered wether he ought to be driving at all. On the way, Every reason not to do this presented itself, chief among them that she might just tell him to fuck off, adding insult to insult. Despite the many good reasons to turn around, his body moved against his mind and simply continued to drive and his eyes continued to search. He didn’t feel in control of himself; which was unusual for him.
In surprisingly short order, he spotted her. As if looking at the sky and seeing the stars were purple, he saw her walking towards his house. She turned around immediately and the stars were again white. He had no idea how this might play out. He drifted alongside her, like in so many awful movies. Instead of nagging her to come back, or apologizing for his actions, he remained very factual, and was careful to talk in the softest voice he could muster; as if verbally walking on eggshells. He said “I know you were walking back to my place, I saw you turn around”.
She furrowed her brow in a manner suggesting a flash of fury, and then stopped immediately. She cried incredibly hard. He was worried that she would wake someone up and knew this had to be resolved quickly, without any loud arguing outbursts in a residential neighborhood. He stopped the truck and felt as if he floated to her. He held her at first by the arms, but considered that this had an authoritativeness to it that ought not be there. He quickly drew her into his chest. She didn’t bother to open her arms to him, instead still holding her face in her hands. He could feel the wetness of her tears on his chest. They were everywhere.
Though the sheer volume of her tears suggested otherwise, this wasn’t the most wild moment between them. He said “ “Come on, we’ve been through worse. Let’s see if we feel better in the morning”. She coldly moved out of his arms and towards the truck. He felt slighted that she was willing to take his ride but not make any attempt at resolution. That had always been a possibility though, and it was his decision to live down.
As he thought of how he ought to treat this situation after this ride, he heard her ask in a surprisingly calm voice, “We’re going to my place?”. He thought to himself, ‘What kind of monster does she think I am? Who wouldn’t let her leave if she wanted to?’. Careful not to bring discontent into the situation, he said “I thought you wanted to go home; that’s ok, I just didn’t think you should walk alone this late and in this heat”. She turned the other way. She didn’t speak for what seemed like an eternity. He mulled over what he should have rather said. Finally she said “you could stay over, if you want”.
He turned to her and saw she held an amazing grin. The happiness rushed back into him like hydration rushes back into a person after a hangover. He smiled and said “I would like that”. When he looked at the road, he saw the situation more clearly than he ever had before. The question to him was no longer “Is this worth it to me?”. Instead, the question was “Is this a valuable experience for a hopeless romantic like me?”, and the answer was an unshaken “Yes”.
It was a loaded question, though. He had no idea what he was doing anymore.
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