A bottle of wine, two wine glasses and a candle absently left lit; Boo sat before me.
“Does it matter? If you like him, go be with him, Boo!!” That's not what I want to tell her. I don’t know what I want to say to her. There is a lump in my throat and I feel as though I am going to cry.
“Who would run the café with you while I’m gone?”
“You know you can commute. Right?”, that came out sharper than expected. Now she’ll think I want her gone.
“Do you want me to leave?”
“He is moving to a house, Boo. A house. You know, the kind of house that says ‘I’ve got my shit together, attend yoga classes and know exactly where all the money in all my bank accounts are at all times’ kind of house!” Her boyfriend recently got a promotion. New house was a natural next step. He’d asked Boo to move in. They really like each other.
Boo meets my gaze. Her eyes are welling up.
“When have I ever cared about a house?” Her voice softens and cracks at the end of the question.
“Ok… well not that exactly! I just mean that if you are happy with him that you should be with him!”
“Do you see what we have? We did this!” She gestures to the café. “This is all us! I wouldn’t give it up for anything! I love the apartment and I love being so close to work and Hillary and..” she stops, “I don’t know what else to say? Is this really about the house?”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“Are you trying to sound dense right now?” her voice is phlegmy and a few tears make their way down her cheeks.
“Shit, Boo, I didn’t mean anything by it. Can we drop it?! Please? This is upsetting you and I didn’t even want to have this conversation to begin with.”
She sniffles and nods.
Patting my face dry with a towel, I put it down to see my reflection in the bathroom mirror. My forehead lines are prominent. Dad would have something to say about it.
Why do I need to be defensive and stand-offish with every little thing? I always need to get the last word in, prove to people that I am right. I am, but I sour everyone's spirits so much to prove my point it hardly matters in the end.
Everyone gets over it eventually. Sometimes I wish they wouldn’t, just to teach me that I can’t act up to get what I want. No one will, though. ‘It's a matter of self discipline’, Claire would say.
Wow… My dark circles are making me look rough around the edges, hot and troubled, but rough nonetheless. There was really nothing to prove today. I don’t even care about the house.
I should check on her. What if she needs some alone time? Fucks sake, she hasn’t said a word since we got back to the flat. I should say something.
She’s sat on our couch, doing a little mopey thing with Hillary. It still annoys me, makes me angry as well. Her face is all droopy and her hair is messier than usual. She isn't doing this to get on my nerves but, she's on my nerves.
I groan out a “Don’t be sad. It's.. sad when you’re sad." Sad when you're sad? Poetic. Shoot me.
"You’re the only cheerful person in this flat on any given day. Say something. ”, I set a cup of tea in front of her. She likes the one with strawberries on the teabag that brews pink. She puts Hilary down to take a sip. I think she’s smiling to herself, but with her head turned down I can’t say for certain.
“You’ve never gotten like that with me before. I don’t know. Do you want me to leave that badly? I know you and Harry are dating and that you might want the flat bu-”
“This has nothing to do with Harry.” I butt in.
“I don’t want to start this over again but-”, She's looking at me again, eerily calm.
Breathing in, she continues, “I don’t care about the house- or him, really. Not in the way it counts. You know?”
I feel a smile creep slowly onto my face. I don’t know why. I guess I like that leaving never crossed her mind. I don’t know where my fit from earlier came from and was just glad to be over with it.
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“Can you listen? Please?”, She gives a hollow laugh. Obviously, she’s amused with me but still has something to say.
“Right. Sorry” I sit up and try my best to put away the smile flutily.
“I love him. You know that, but, it's not an ‘I want to move in with you’ kind of love.”
“Do you think I’m a shit person?”
“You’re not listening to me!” She takes a pillow from her side and whacks the breath out of me.
“Alright!” I hold a hand up to prevent her from swinging again, “I do know that! None of this is about the house. I just want you to do what's right for you!”
She raises an eyebrow, still holding the pillow. “How would you know what that is?”
“I don’t, boo! I don’t, and it was wrong of me to assume I knew what you wanted. I didn’t mean to upset you I was just being stupid!”
“I’ll say.” She huffs, rolling her eyes and putting down the pillow.
My chest hurts. I don’t know why.
I don’t know why. Oh wait, it might be because of the hit I took earlier. Damn, she has some arm strength.
Boo has taken a large part of my heart since mum died. She isn't like a mother... she is calm, friendly, sweet, surprising, loving, forgiving and ... I lost my train of thought.
I click off my light, try to put today behind me, and sleep.