Sweet Home... Minnesota?

“Have you ever gone a day without complaining? You do realize that it’s hard to feel sympathetic for someone when they’re so pissed off all the time.”

I ignore Frank so he keeps talking, “I mean you’re just so negative. What do you think you’re going to accomplish by being miserable all the time?”

“Absolution maybe.”

“You’re like the human embodiment of Eeyore, you know that? I’ve never met someone more down about anything in my entire life.”

“Thanks for the manners,” I retort.

Frank’s house is pretty typical for this town. He’s a little better at decorating than some people so the furniture at least matches and the paint isn’t pealing, but it’s still old and fairly dark. The layout is a little bigger than Mikey’s house, but not as open. The front door leads into the living room which is pretty large with dark brown carpeting, and there’s a doorway on the other side of the room that leads into a kitchen. The kitchen has old appliances, the stove alone is probably older than me and Frank combined. There’s a dishwasher though which can’t be old, because I don’t think more than five or six people in town have something as grand as that. That’s probably Frank’s touch, and I can’t say I blame him. After washing dishes my whole life, and then having a dishwasher at my apartment, I really wouldn’t want to go back.

“You’re not exactly the easiest person to be nice to. I’m trying my best. At least I haven’t called you a dickhead.”

“Hey, you agreed with that!”

Frank turns to look at me from where he’s standing by the door sorting through his mail and I see that he was joking. Whoops. I guess I’m not accustomed to being near people who put up with me. Generally I’m around people who want me to go away, and I can’t say that I blame them. I’m a bit of a downer. Maybe I am Eeyore.

It’s getting late now, but I’m really not all that tired. I’m also pretty bored, but I don’t know what to do or say. I may be a prick, but I still try to respect people a little bit and Frank’s already being nice to me so I shouldn’t ruin that.

“You hungry?” Frank asks walking over to the kitchen. I’m standing awkwardly near the wall, and I don’t know if I should follow or just keep standing here.

“Not really.”

“Too bad,” He says, “because you’re going to eat something.”

“But I’m not-“

“I don’t care,” he says poking his head back to look at me from the kitchen. He looks expectant and I don’t think I could actually avoid his gaze if I tried.

“You didn’t eat lunch so you’re eating dinner. Fucking deal with it.”

I haven’t actually eaten much of anything in a few days, but I protest anyway. Food doesn’t have that much of an appeal to me and it makes me feel kind of weird. Frank isn’t having it though.

He drags me into the kitchen which doubles as a dining room, and I can’t get a word in edgewise because he’s a talker.

The kid practically forces a veggie burger down my throat. I’m somewhere stuck in the middle of wanting to punch him in the face and wanting to just suck it up and deal. I really don’t want to be so wretched to him when he’s actually making an effort.

If I’m going to be honest the veggie burger is pretty appalling, but I feel a lot better after I eat. I don’t know if it’s just because Frank was kind of adorable when he did that or if it’s because of the actual act of eating but whatever it is, I feel a bit better. I feel like I’m not actually about to pass out, which is pleasant.

“There, you ate. Now was that worth fighting with Mikey over?” Frank asks.

“I’m not sure if we were just fighting over that or about my attitude in general, but whatever it was, I’m not really sorry. I didn’t do anything.”

“Really? You’re going with that? It was all his fault and not yours? That’s bullshit. How did you two survive your childhood?”

“Lots of hitting.”

“Well whatever it was, you do realize that you’re an adult who has to take responsibility for things sometimes? It’s an unfortunate stage of growing up, but it is essential if you’re ever going to interact with humans. You can’t just project all the shit onto other people.”

“I’m not a huge fan of interacting with people much to begin with,” I shrug. I don’t really need to be lectured by Frank again today.

“So do I need to worry about the fact that you didn’t want to eat or something?” Frank asks looking all serious out of nowhere.

“What? No. Why?” He doesn’t think I’m starving myself or anything? I honestly don’t think I am I just have trouble getting things down.

“Nothing, I mean. You should have seen how adamant you were. It’s not healthy to not eat. It’ll make you grumpy also so...”

“I’m fine, okay. I just don’t, I don’t know, I don’t really like eating because it’s just more fuel to have to puke out later,” I answer. I’m not sure where I pulled that answer out of, but I realize that it’s actually true. I guess that that had never occurred to me, but it’s true. Avoiding food hasn’t exactly kept me from getting sick recently though so it may not be the best strategy. Especially if it makes me even more sick.

“That’s a miserable way to think.”

“You wouldn’t last a day in my skin,” I answer honestly and frown thinking about how much better of Frank is than I am. For one thing he’s happier than I am, and quite a bit more attractive. He seems like he’s got it all figured out even if he doesn’t.

Frank smiles, “Probably not, but at least I’d be taller.”

“You are really short,” I agree.

“Hey watch it Way! I will end you,” He says.

“If you can reach,” I answer and he kicks me in the shins.

“Fuck off,” he says but smiles. I don’t why but it’s actually pretty cute. Frank is kind of extremely cute. I should say he’s just extremely cute. There’s no ‘kind of’ about him. If I am Eeyore then he is most definitely Winnie the Pooh.

My phone rings a second later and I look down at the caller ID than feel my heart sink a little bit. I was hoping it’d be Mikey or something, but it’s not. It’s her. She’s like Voldemort at this point because I’m not saying her name.

“I should take this,” I say, solemnly. Frank nods and I walk out of the room. It’s not exactly what I’d call privacy, but it’s better than having him stare at me. There’s no way he can’t hear me but I just ignore that fact.

I answer the phone with an angry, “What do you want?”

“Where are you?”

“Minnesota.”

“No really?” She asks.

I groan and answer, “Yeah, really. I’m in Minnesota.”

“Why would you go back there after you said you hated it there?”

“Well this girl I was dating who I thought was really sweet kicked me out of my apartment after breaking up with me out of nowhere,” that didn’t sound bitter at all. Yeah it did, it sounded so pissed that it doesn’t even deserve sarcasm.

“You’re not still mad about that are you?”

“Still? That was a week ago! I’m still incredibly mad about that,” I answer incredulously.

“Well you shouldn’t be.”

“And why not? How about you tell me why you broke up with me in the first place?”

She doesn’t answer immediately, “I just didn’t think it was going to work.”

“You could’ve mentioned that before we moved in together,” I reply, “Maybe a year ago would’ve been nice.”

“You’re being-“

“You know what? I’m good. I don’t need to hear your crap. I don’t really need you to lecture me on what’s wrong with me. You need to accept the fact that this isn’t going to work. Maybe it would’ve, if you hadn’t decided to throw a bomb at it. I’d say see you later, but I really hope I don’t,” and then I hang up before I can say something even worse.

My head thumps back against the wall and I hear Frank shout from the other room, “see that is one of the many reasons why I don’t date girls.”