“You know I might actually respect you if you weren’t so passive aggressive and actually articulate what you think or how you feel.”
You lean back into the headrest, letting your eyelids fall close as you let out a heavy exhale.
“I just think it’s funny that-“
It takes a lot to get you riled up. Catholic school, be a good boy, turn the other cheek, the meek shall inherit the earth, all that shit. But it’s been building up too long. It’s not good to hold it in. You’re a ticking time bomb.
“Stop. Stop it. I just, babe, sometimes I don’t know what your deal is. ‘You’re too quiet’ ‘I never know what you’re thinking’, and AT THE SAME TIME, when I DO say something, you can’t take it at face value. It’s always 'well I know you said this but what you REALLY mean is THIS.' You’re fucking neurotic-"
Her eyes are big and for a moment she looks taken aback, but her shock turns into a wicked smile. She wanted to have a fight and now she’s got it. She knows once the ball gets rolling it can’t it’s hard to stop.
“Oh I’M the neurotic one” taunting, trying to add oxygen to the flame. You’re both standing now, opposite each side of the dinner
table, a gift from her grandmother.
“Oooooh fuuuuuuuuuuuuck you Shondo. I love you. I really do. But I don’t think you understand how hard you make it to love you."
Any attempt to keep your voice low and even has been abandoned by this point. You’re screaming at her.
“I mean for fuck sakes for someone that’s terrified of being alone, it’s like you’re trying hardest to make sure that nobody fucking wants to be around you. I’m pulling 80 hours a week trying to support us. And for what? What for? So I can come home and get ridiculed and needle by you for “not saying what I mean?”
Her façade has started to crack. Her face is stuck in some weird half-grin that you’ve never seen her make before. Despite the barrage she has never broken eye contact.
"You want me to be honest? I think Blue Archive is fucking gay. I do not give a single SHIT about who you pulled or how small of a chance it was to get her I mean really, who fucking cares? And yeah, obviously, dinner was shit. I mean God damn it there’s instructions on the box, how do you manage to fuck that up? You act like you’re the smartest person in the room you’re in, no no, Shondo knows best about EVERYTHING but can’t cook a fucking meal without wrecking it. How’s that for honest, cunt?”
“You know there’s a difference between being honest and being cruel,” she lets out weakly.
Her voice snaps you out of your tirade. The smile is gone and she’s looking down at her pale, bare little feet. She scrunches her toes as she shifts her weight back and forth trying to let loose some of the anxious energy. The softness of her voice makes you realize how loud you were yelling at her. Looking at her slight, delicate frame makes you feel small. “Fuck you”, she whispers before fleeing to the back bedroom and slamming the door behind her. She won’t give you the satisfaction of seeing her cry.
It's dark by the time you get back from the smoke break and walk. You’ve decided to apologize even though you don’t want to. You didn’t lie to her. You could have phrased it more… diplomatically, but you told the truth and you shouldn’t have to apologize for telling the truth. Crossing the threshold, the house is calm and quiet. The bedroom door is still shut, the dirty plates are
still sitting on the table. You take a deep breath and knock on the door. No response.
Babe?
Again you’re met with only silence.
You push open the door and find her sitting on her edge of the bed, the lamp on her nightstand giving off the only gentle light in the room. She doesn’t look up at you when you enter. She’s changed clothes, and is in one of your favorite shirts. It looks
like a nightgown on her, long enough to cover her milky mid-thigh.
“Shondo.. I-“
“Do you love me?”
You cross the room and sit down next to her.
“I love you more than anything in the world.”
“Do you mean it? You promise? You’ll love me forever?” she finally looks up into your eyes as “forever” lingers off her sweet pink lips.
“Yes, I’ll love you forever.”
“Anon…” she murmurs and puts her hand on your shoulder. “I need to show you something, lie back for me.” She stands briefly giving you room to position yourself on the middle of the bed, then she crawls up and straddles you, then places her soft little hands on both sides of your temple. Staring, pleading with her eyes she asks if you trust her, and you nod.
“I’m not going to hurt you.”
Your vision starts to blur and within seconds you can’t see her anymore. You don’t feel the weight of her against you anymore. The light from the lamp gets consumed by the encroaching darkness. No fear rises up in you. Suspended in this weightless blackness you cannot see her but you can sense her, you can feel her love. By this point you’re no longer in your body, you’re a separated consciousness. Suddenly there’s a blinding light and warmth that envelopes you. You’re bombarded with flashes of images moving so quickly you shouldn’t be able to comprehend them, but you do. You remember everything. Glimpses of your past lives, the past selves, everything you’d forgotten comes flooding back in a torrent you’re powerless to stop. The realization pours into you. With every bygone age and tumult and pain and struggle, she’s always been there with you. You see different flickers of her, different hair, a changed timber of her voice, some taller, or shorter- she’ll take on different forms but all unmistakably her. The pieces slip into place and suddenly it all makes sense. How easy it was being around her, the familiarity, even the first time you met, you couldn’t shake off the feeling that you’ve already known each other for years. You’ve already spent 1000 lifetimes together. It was all her. It was always her. Your souls are inseparably intertwined and from now unto eternity you’ll be as one.