Rain

“Hello?” You sound groggy and tired, like this call had woken you up. I hesitate before answering, afraid you’ll hang up.

“Vic?” Before I can even think about saying anything else I hear you sigh.

“Kellin?” there’s a pause before you whisper again, “Kellin, it’s like four ‘o'clock in the morning where I am.”

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, mostly because I don’t know what to say. For three months a sat awake at night planning what I would say to you if I could ever get a hold of you, but now my mind is blank. I don’t remember any of the speeches I had planned out, any of the apologies I meant to make.

“So what are you doing?” You ask, I know you don’t mean in a small talk sense but I’m not ready to talk about the heavy stuff. I just want to talk to you like we used to, I don’t want to be strangers anymore.

“Sitting on our bed. My bed! Sitting on my bed,” I correct myself quickly, hoping he doesn’t get angry with me.

“That’s nice,” You say, rather awkwardly. I’m not quite sure how to respond, so I shift in my cross-legged position, staying quiet for a moment.

“Yep,” I reply, popping the ‘p’ as it slides out of my mouth.

“Why are you calling me?” You ask, sounding more harsh than I expected.

“I-I don’t know. I just miss you,” I say, stuttering through a shaking jaw. I shouldn’t be this flustered around you, you shouldn’t be able to make me this nervous. After all, you still loved me. Right?

“You can’t keep doing this, Kellin,” you say, through a much softer tone now. But that one seems to leave more of sting, adding to the ache in my throat.

“Why not?” I whisper, afraid you might actually answer, “I still love you.”

“We want different things Kellin. It would never work,” You whisper back to me. This shouldn’t be so painful, shouldn’t be so unexpected. I had spent so long praying, hoping you’d answer and now that you have I don’t know what I’m doing with myself.

“That’s not true!” I all but shout, breaking the quiet reverie we were in. “We want the same things, you just have to give me the chance to prove that to you.”

“We can’t both be happy in the same place, we already tried it. It’s better for the both of us if we leave this behind,” You say, but I can tell. I know by the sound of your voice that you’re unsure; you’re trying to convince yourself.

“If it was better for the both of us it wouldn’t hurt this bad,” I say. I can’t stop my voice from cracking.

“Kellin.”

“Vic.”

“Kellin -”

“Please.” I whisper, I can feel my eyes start to gloss over; it’s like I’m losing you all over again. The initial impact of you leaving is back and it’s drowning me.

“Kellin! Don’t you understand? I don’t want to live in the rain, I don’t want to live in the cold and I don’t want to live with someone that doesn’t care that I’m unhappy,” You yell. Even then I wish you were here. But you’re not, not to see me flinch or to see my face, which I’m sure looks as pathetic as I feel. You just keep talking, “What about that don’t you get, Kellin? Did ever listen to me?”

“I’m sorry okay? I’m sorry!” I say, letting out a quiet sob that I hope you don’t hear. You just sigh again, somehow making me feel smaller.

“I have to go,” you whisper. I can feel my blood boil under my skin as I rush to think of something, anything, that will keep you on the phone.

“I was going to move us,” I practically shout, as fast as I can.

“What?”

“After our fight, I started making plans for us to move. I researched the best sunny places in America. I was going to let you pick wherever you wanted to go, and then we would move there. Together,” I say, desperately.

“You were?” You whisper, hesitantly. I nod my head quickly before remember that you can’t see me.

“I was going to surprise you. But you...you left.”

“Really?”

“Yes, I would still move there now if you’d let me,” I say, more hopeful than I intended to. There’s a long pause before you speak again.

“Kellin you wouldn’t like it here,” You say simply.

“Yes I would!” I defend.

“You hate the heat, Kells,” even though you may not have meant to say, I caught it. You hadn’t called me that since before the breakup.

“I don’t care about that.”

“Yes you will-”

“No I won’t! I don’t care about the heat or sticky skin. I only care about you,” I say back, hoping to get my point across.

My eyes focus on the wall in front of me while I wait for you to respond. There’s a small hole there, where there used to be nail hammered in. It had a picture frame hanging on it, on we took from our third anniversary. We looked so happy together then, I had to take it down. I couldn’t look at it every morning when I woke up.

“Are you sure?” You finally whisper back to me. My heart picks up, it’s like I can feel you giving in.

“Positive,” I reply, bobbing my head. You take an audibly deep breathe, holding it in before letting it out.

“Do you think you could have everything ready by Sunday? Fly in to the Austin Airport that day?”

“Yes. Yes!” I shout, answering quicker than I thought possible.

“Okay,” You reply, more to yourself than to me, “Okay. Text me the information of your flight. I’ll pick you up then. Remember, fly into the Austin International Airport.” I must admit, you do sound happier now than you did at the beginning of this call.

“Austin Airport in Texas. Got it,” I reply, bobbing my head again.

“I really do have to go back to sleep now, Kells,” You say, and even though I know I’ll see you in a week I don’t want to let you go; I just got you back.

“Okay.”

“And Kellin?” you ask, prolonging the time until I have to say goodbye for the night.

“Yeah?”

“I still love you too.”