Title Track

It’s been almost two weeks since I’d spoken to Ryan. I didn’t feel relieved, or disappointed. I mostly felt reassured. He hadn’t changed.

Spencer is babbling on about some movie he saw, and all I can think about is how I knew this would happen.

I guess I am a little disappointed.

He stops mid sentence and looks at me with this expression that can’t be described.

“Are you okay?” he asks, shoulders slumped.

“Not really, no.” I say honestly. I’m not sure what I was expecting. Of course I wanted Ryan to call. Of course I wanted everything to be alright with us, for us to get back together, to get the happily ever after that I’d expected from him. But who was I kidding? It’s Ryan. Ryan, who I had written off years ago. I can’t expect anything from him.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asks, being a good friend. Spencer is a good friend. Fuck, he’s a great friend. But I don’t know what to say about any of this.

“No, it’s all good. Keep talking.”

My stomach is tied in knots because of how he’s looking at me.

It’s not really fair.

--

I twist the paper around in my hands. It’s maybe two in the morning, and I’m sitting on my couch, only the light from the hallway providing some kind of illumination.

Ironically, it’s become somewhat of a comfort blanket. It was the last thing Ryan gave me, it’s the only thing I have left from back then. Funny that the thing that had hurt me most is what’s keeping me sane now.

I nearly jump out of my skin when my phone starts vibrating on the coffee table, loud in the silence of my apartment.

The screen lights up blue, and I pick it up to see whose calling this fucking late.

It’s an unfamiliar number.

I swallow hard as I stare at the screen.

It’s either a bill collector, or Ryan.

I take a deep breath before answering, bringing it to my ear slowly.

“Hello?” It’s breathy, and nervous, and shit, I’m nervous.

“Brendon?” My heart is in my throat. I nod, forgetting that this is a telephone, and no, he can’t see me.

“Yeah. Ryan?”

“Yeah. Did I wake you?” He sounds just as nervous as I am. I shake my head, and I must be a fucking idiot because he can’t see me.

“No, I uh, no. I was awake.”

“Oh, good. I was… I was wondering, if maybe, maybe you’d want to meet me somewhere?”

It feels like high school.

“This late?”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I just didn’t know if it would be easier to talk that way, or…”

“No, that’s fine.” I take another deep breath. This feels too quick. It feels scary. I’m scared. “Where do you want to meet?” I twist the paper between my fingers, trace the words with my eyes, and fuck, I’m actually speaking to Ryan again.

“There’s a warehouse right next to where you work. Would that work?”

“Yeah. Yeah. That sounds good. I’ll uh, I’ll be there in maybe ten minutes.”

“Okay. I’ll see you then.” The line goes dead, and I may have peed myself from nerves.

--

I pull up to the warehouse, and see Ryan smoking a cigarette with a large bottle in one of his hands.

Typical.

I get out of the car, and he looks at me like a deer in headlights.

“Hey.” He says, raising the bottle. I nod. Because it’s a casual way to say hello. “How are you?”

I shrug, hands shoved into the pockets of my jacket, fingering the note. “Fine, I guess. You?”

“Been better.” he sighs, taking a drag.

“You wanted to talk?” I’m all business.

He nods, and holds out the bottle. “Yeah. But, uh, I brought this for you.”

I take it, twisting off the cap. “Cool. I needed something to help with my alcoholism.” I take a drink, and make a face at the bitter taste.

“I uh,” he looks at his feet, and the cigarette between his fingers, “I left Alex.”

I nod, walking closer to him. “Why?”

“I realized that I needed a change. A good one. Not a stupid one.”

“And how’d that go?”

“He wasn’t happy. Didn’t act at all like he said he would. And, uh, when he asked me why,” He pauses. He looks embarrassed.

“What did you say?”

“Just your name.”

I hold my breath. Because that’s a lot to take in.

“I really hope you’re starting to get it,” he says as I take the cigarette from him and taking a drag. “That I’m serious.”

“About?”

“Brendon,” he says, sounding exasperated, “please don’t act like this. You know what I mean. I just ended a relationship for you.”

“It’s not like I asked you to, Ryan.”

“I didn’t say that. But at least give me some respect for trying to show you that I’m being honest.”

“I’m giving you as much respect as you deserve right now, Ryan. Put yourself in my shoes. Think about how fucking weird this is.”

“It’s only weird because you’re making it weird!”

“Me? I’m making it weird? You just broke up with someone because we talked twice after three years!”

“Because I still love you, Brendon. I want us to be okay again.”

“And you think I don’t? I would like nothing more than for us to be together again! But that’s not how life works, Ryan! You fuck up, and you deal with the consequences, like an adult. We’re not kids anymore. You don’t get to redo it because you didn’t know you were doing anything wrong.”

“I don’t want to redo anything! I want to fix things! I want to makeup for what I did!”

“Fuck, Ryan, we’re losing it.” I feel like I’m going to fall apart. “This isn’t right. This isn’t good. It’s not what either of us need. My life was going fine. I can’t just change my shit around because you think you still love me!”

“Think? Brendon, I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it. Call me whatever you want-- Call me an idiot, a dick, an asshole-- but don’t call me a fucking liar. If I’m anything, it’s not a liar.”

“I loved you, Ryan,” I feel nauseous, “But this is crazy. We can’t do this. Not like this. I’m still not over the last time you left. I don’t want to have to do it again.

“But I won’t leave you this time!” It sounds like he’s begging.

And suddenly, my hands are moving, and I throw the ratty, folded piece of paper at him.

“Yeah. I believe that.” I spit, and I feel like I’m going to pass out. He frowns, picking up the paper and unfolding it.

“You kept this?” he asks, sounding shocked as his eyes run over the words.

“Yeah. I kept it.”

“Why?”

“Because I loved you, you jackass. It was the last thing you gave me. It was all I had left of you.” My eyes are watering now, and shit, he has it and I don’t, and I just want it back.

“I’m sorry.” He says quietly, eyes still on the note.

“Do you get it now, Ryan? What you did was real, and it changed my life. My entire life. I don’t want everything to change again. Not after I’ve got everything in order.”

“I’m such a dick.” he says quietly. I watch him, still staring at the paper, and I think he finally realizes the gravity of our situation.