Cold

I shifted in the seat of my taxi, uncomfortably. It had been so long since I had ridden in a vehicle. I stared out the window as long, lifeless fields passed me by. Soon, I would be home. I had not been there in years. I wondered if Max would visit me. I wondered if he even remembered me. He had never written me back after I sent him endless letters. I wanted him so badly. Hopefully, I can succeed in showing him I changed. I promised myself I would never hurt another human being again, no matter how badly they hurt me. I loved my Maxie too much to put him through all of this again.

Please remember me, my love.

The only way I could get through the long, lonely nights was to imagine his perfect voice whispering to me, "It will all be okay, love. We'll get through this." The question was: Did we get through this? Does he really remember me after all this time? Why hadn't he replied to my letters? Has he moved on as he and the rest of the band did with Craig? Did someone steal him away from me?

We were pulling onto the curb near my driveway. My thoughts lasted longer than I'd hoped. I wanted more time to think before I confronted him, because I knew the second I walked into my home, I would call him, even if I wanted to think some more. I craved his melodic voice, no matter how much he didn't want to see me. I needed him. I needed to show him I could be different. I could love him like he dreamed of being loved.

I got out of the prepaid taxi and walked toward my home. Everything was so unfamilar. New houses were built, additions were built onto some other homes, some were re-painted, and some had new mailboxes. New cars I had never even seen sat in some driveways and I shook my head. I missed out on a lot in prison.

The taxi pulled away as I reached my door. I put the key that had been given to me by the guards into the lock and unlocked the door. I looked around. The house brought backing haunting memories: memories of a time when I was too high for my own good and slammed my love into the wall, memories of a time when I thought I could own him, memories of a time I scared my Maxie to death.

I shuddered. I never wanted to go back to those ways. He deserved so much more.

It was all a blur when I dialed the number I memorized so well. Somehow, I still knew it even after all those days without a phone.

I felt like an idiot. Of course I memorized it. All I thought about ever since I entered that vile place was talking to my love.

"Yo you've reached Max Green. Leave a message if you're not some crazed fangirl."

I let out a sigh, followed by a gulp. The answering machine beeped and I hung up immediately.

Then it rang.

I slowly picked up the phone and clicked the 'talk' button.

"Hello?" I said hestitantly.

"You just called this number. Who is this?"

I gulped again, "M-Maxie it's m-me."

There was a pause and a faint whisper, "Ronnie?"

"Yes. Before you freak out, just listen for a moment. I'm sorry I treated you so badly, I thought it over long and hard and I was horrible. They put me on medication and I'm doing much better. I promise I'll never hurt you like that again and I love you so much. If you don't want to be like we were before, I understand, but I want to be friends, at least."

There was another pause, "Thank you."

"That's it? Thank you?" I asked, expectantly.

"Well I don't know what else to say, Ronnie. We haven't talked in forever."

"I sent you letters. You never replied," I said, growing a little agitated.

If he had replied, we may still be together to the day. We may have been able to work things out. We were in love, after all.

"I was never home. We were touring. My mom was getting my mail. She probably threw them out. I'm sorry."

I felt tears start. He was so cold. It was almost as if he didn't care for me at all anymore.

"Can I come see you?"

"If you want," he said.

"I'm going to," I said.

"Okay. Bye."

We both hung up and I sighed. I went to find some of my aged clothes and makeup. I had to make things right.

Max sat next to me on the couch with his cup of coffee and a cigarette. I gave up on smoking, so I turned him down when he offered me one. I think that may have actually helped my case a lot, as little of a thing that it was.

"I missed you," I said in a small voice.

Max smiled a little, "That's sweet of you."

"Did you miss me? Even a little?" I said, hopefully, feeling the tears grow again.

I had changed so much. Years ago I would have yelled at him for treating me so coldly.

He smiled again, "Maybe a little."

I changed the subject, "How have you been?"

"Good," he started, "glad to be on a break for awhile."

I pursed my lips, "Yeah, me too."

"So you're getting a new band together, I heard?"

It had never been so awkward with him before.

"Yeah, trying."

He nodded and I couldn't help myself.

"Max, will you marry me?"

"What the fuck?"

He practically glared. It stung so bad. I felt tears fall and I looked at the couch. I got up and I started to leave, shaking my head, whimpering 'I'm sorry's. I never meant to hurt him. I never meant to treat him badly. He deserved so much better.

"I'm sorry, Max. I love you. Goodbye."

I started to walk out the door, but as if a miracle happened, he grabbed my hand and shook his head.

"I don't know you anymore, Ronnie. You've changed, but that's not a bad thing. I loved you before but maybe I can love you more now. I won't marry you, but we can give it a try again. Actually, I'd like that," he said, that beautiful smile on his face.

I practically glowed and I threw my arms around his slender waist as he wrapped his around my neck. I kissed his lips and I noticed something.

They weren't so cold.