‹ Prequel: The Way We Talk
Status: Prologue up soon!
The Missing Piece
The metal of the bench is cold against my back, separated only by the thin cotton of my t-shirt. It's an unseasonably cold summer night, and I curse myself for forgetting my hoodie in the van again. I look over at Chris, who is staring out at the little jungle gym in front of us, as if it held universal answers or something. He twirls his nearly-empty beer bottle, thumb and middle finger holding the mouth, and sighs.
"I don't believe in love anymore." I don't know what to say back. I'm not sure if it's proof that we're getting closer or that he's just drunk, but this random statement catches me off guard. "Like, I had it. I thought I had it. I was a fool with his feet in the air. I fell. I don't know what I fell into. But it wasn't romantic. It wasn't special and it wasn't beautiful. It was dirty. Had jagged edges. It hurt."
I don't say anything. The more you talk the less you know, my mom always said, and this isn't the time to interject with my own philosophies.
"I think some people aren't meant to get it right. Like Christian, he got it right. He fucked everything up between Maria and Erica but he still got his happy ending. It's not fuckin' fair, but he deserved it."
"You deserve it too."
He chuckles at that, then swallows the dregs of his beer and sets the empty bottle beside him. "Maybe. I want it. I want to find that missing piece, you know. That person that just makes everything whole."
I want to shake him, have him face me and see me for the first time. But I'm not that stupid. There's no use in asking the blind to simply open their eyes.
Sequel to The Way We Talk
"I don't believe in love anymore." I don't know what to say back. I'm not sure if it's proof that we're getting closer or that he's just drunk, but this random statement catches me off guard. "Like, I had it. I thought I had it. I was a fool with his feet in the air. I fell. I don't know what I fell into. But it wasn't romantic. It wasn't special and it wasn't beautiful. It was dirty. Had jagged edges. It hurt."
I don't say anything. The more you talk the less you know, my mom always said, and this isn't the time to interject with my own philosophies.
"I think some people aren't meant to get it right. Like Christian, he got it right. He fucked everything up between Maria and Erica but he still got his happy ending. It's not fuckin' fair, but he deserved it."
"You deserve it too."
He chuckles at that, then swallows the dregs of his beer and sets the empty bottle beside him. "Maybe. I want it. I want to find that missing piece, you know. That person that just makes everything whole."
I want to shake him, have him face me and see me for the first time. But I'm not that stupid. There's no use in asking the blind to simply open their eyes.
Sequel to The Way We Talk