Dichotomy.

I leave my mother’s house with feelings of pure freedom as I step out into the sun.

I’m relieved to see that Eric hasn’t called or texted me, and that he’s not waiting for me at home, either.

In fact, I’m in such a good mood that I get Rigby’s leash and walk him to the park.

I let him off his leash, settling myself on a bench in the shade while he runs around in circles.

This is one of the few times where I don’t have to deal with anyone. With my mom, Tom, Brendon, Eric-

And all I can think about is how I need to figure out what I’m doing.

About Eric, about everything.

Like how I need to take my life back under my own control before it comes back to fuck me over, again.

Brendon and Spencer want to start recording demos before we leave for tour in about a month, but I still don’t know how I feel about becoming a full-fledged member of the band.

Even so, it’s not 100% official yet; we’ve put off publically announcing it, mainly because of me. I’m just not ready yet.

I glance away for a split second and when I look back, I realize Rigby’s run over to a man and little girl. I stand up to go grab him.

He looks up when I’m about halfway to him and I realize it’s none other than Brendon himself.

He gives a small hesitant wave, and I have no choice but to finish walking over and collect Rigby.

“Hey,” he says with an uncertain half-smile, which I attempt to return.

“Yours?” I ask, nodding towards his hand, which is intertwined with the little girl’s, even though I know she’s not. There’s just nothing else for me to say.

“My niece,” he says, smiling down at her as she pets Rigby and he licks her. She gives me a shy look and then runs off to play on the swings and I pick Rigby up because obviously it was a mistake to let him off his leash.

“Never pegged you for the babysitting type,” I remark. He shrugs.

“I owe my sister a lot of favors,” he replies, giving a slight laugh and wry smile.

“Well-”

“I-” we both awkwardly begin at the same time.

“Go ahead,” I insist, because I really have no idea what I’d even planned on saying.

“I was going to tell you- I was working on one of the songs we started,” he states, and then continues with more details about what he was thinking about adding or taking out or whatever, but I’m still distracted. Thankfully, his niece returns, and I take full advantage of the interruption.

“I should go,” I say. Anyway, it’s starting to get awkward, since we never have much to talk about anyway.

“Oh. Alright,” he says, shrugging, and I quickly leave.

I get to my house to find Eric waiting there for me and I inwardly sigh in annoyance.

“What were you up to?” he immediately asks as I unlock the door to let us in.

“Went to the park for Rigby’s walk. I ran into Brendon,” I tell him, nonchalantly.

“Oh.” There’s nothing behind his tone, it’s just indifferent as always.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, not really giving a second thought to manners.

“Just wanted to talk,” he says, pushing his hair out of his eyes.

“About…” I prod languidly in disinterest. I’m still half-thinking about the chance encounter at the park.

“Well…I’m going on tour…you’re writing and going on tour eventually…”

“What are you saying?” I ask, snapping harshly back into reality to meet his inconsistent stare.

“Well…” he hesitates with that stupidly morose guilty expression I know only too well.

That same look he gave me when he told me our old drummer found out about us and they decided the band wasn’t working out for them anymore.

The same look Rigby gave me when he chewed up my favorite pair of Vans last winter.
“For fuck’s sake, spit it out,” I roll my eyes, already knowing.

It’s so like him.

Of course I saw this coming.

“I want to go on break.”

I’m not sure whether to laugh in relief or punch the asshole in the nose.

Maybe both.

“You know what? We’re over,” I say, after a few seconds of contemplating whether or not a slap to the face would be too overdramatic.

“You’re breaking up with me because I want a break?” he asks, dumbfounded.

And yet…somehow, he’s still indifferent to everything.

I shake my head, wondering what I ever saw in him.

Really.

“More than that,” I say, simply.

I gladly remind him where the door is, and he leaves.

And I could care less.

The truth is, I was just looking for any excuse to end it.

I call Tom to tell him what I’ve done.

Rewind to when I actually gave a shit and thought through my decisions.