His back was pressed against the cold wood of a door. There was no wind, complete darkness filled his vision, but he spoke, “I know you can’t see me, you can’t touch me, and I bet you can’t forgive me. That’s fair. I tossed you away and didn’t think. You were my light, but, like, I was blind. It only took me losing you to realize. Why am I such an idiot?” His head was shaking, and he turned and placed his forehead on the door, “Say it again! Say, ‘You are my sunshine, you are my everything.’”
A smile broke his lips as a tear formed in his eye. He quickly turned and placed his upper back against the door, “You are my everything, too. Without you, I wouldn’t be able to do anything. I couldn’t even get out of bed or leave my bedroom. All our good times, the dancing at the farmer’s market, the bewildered looks of the old people. Then I got my car, and we no longer had to walk. I know, the car is what caused me to leave you. I thought there was someone better in this big wide world. I was wrong.” He pushed his ear against the doorway and nodded, “Yes, yes! I was stupid, you are right! But it brought me back to you. We can get back together. I wasn’t with anyone else, I came back!”
A notification broke his concentration. The light beep was like a gunshot on such a silent night. His better judgment told him not to review the message, but he didn’t listen. He was greeted with a single phrase: “No 2 coffee leave me alone!” With a quick illumination and his answer, he continued.
More tears were coming down his face as he slumped to the ground, “I didn’t know what I had. I didn’t know what was out there. I had, had, had,” he stuttered, “multiple girlfriends before you, but none like you.” His hands lay limply across the carpet as if the text message had snapped them, “I thought we were broken, never fighting, just working. I mistook battles for passion.” Sobbing began to interrupt his monologue, but the guttural noise was quelled, “You and me were perfect. Don’t you agree?”
His wrists were revitalized as he pushed his ear against the doorway. It took a moment, but his head kept bopping up and down like a bobble head. Finally, he responded, “Yes! You thought the same thing. I knew you would understand. There are so many road blocks,” his tears had stopped flowing, “for us to get through. I know we can do it. Like, we can do anything we want. Your dad is just going to have to deal with, or we can sneak you out.” He started laughing to himself, “We could even roofie him, I am sure Sam can get us some if we really need ‘em.” He thought he heard her laugh. “See, we just work.”
He heard a door slam and, with the grace of a gazelle, shot to his feet. There were no more words between him and the door. The lights shot on in his room as he stood, and he began wiping the tears from his face. A movie was loaded on his computer. He shook the mouse, and the liquid crystal display shot to life, and he had paused it in the middle of a fight scene. His back faced the doorway into his room. A slight knock echoed around the small room. There wasn’t much for the sound to bounce against. The room was populated by a small desk, dresser, closet, chair, and bed on a metal frame. Plaid sheets, a Christmas present from his brother, were the most colorful thing in the room. The fabric was an amalgam of royal blue, crimson, and – oddly – bright lime green.
Headphones slipped over his ears as he avoided the dreadful knock. A car exploded in the movie which palpitated his eardrums. He almost yelped like a dog whose tail had been stepped on. His mouse found the volume control. He turned it to zero. Silence fell in the room again, his eyes were scanning from left to right as if they could see the door behind him. Then the door creaked, his muscles froze, and ice twisted its way through his blood. Steps began to violate his sanctuary. One, two, three, four, five, six and then nothing. A small hand fell onto his shoulder.
His face creased into a smile, he inhaled sharply, and then turned to the intruder, “Hi mom!”
“How are you doing?” His smile was greeted with his mother’s frown of concern.
“I’m good.”
“Are you sure? Is Czesia going to meet with you and hear you out?”
He reached back to the desk and flipped his phone over, even though it was in standby, “Yea, we are going to meet tomorrow for coffee.”
“That’s good. I am sure she will take you back.”
They both had lied.