part II

When I decided to leave that cat in the box I forgot one key thing: Cat's don't like being stuck in boxes-they will mostly likely make their own escape.

I never walked down the street to the cross roads, I never even asked him to meet me there. It was just a fantasy, the fantasy of what I should have done but was to chicken to actually carry through with.

I met a guy at work, we get along like peanut butter and jelly. He is tall, dark and handsome; not to mention the biggest dork you've ever met. When we hang out, all we do is laugh. He goes to Camosun and I go to UVic and so, lately he has been busing to UVic on a friday and waiting for my class to get out. Day 1-we got bubble tea in china town and he taught me how to eat lychee nuts. Day 2-we found a "wild" cafe with drift wood chairs and "white coffee" tucked away in a little corner of Victoria. Day 3-we were assaulted by an overly talkative drunk lady on the bus and I climbed on the back of his ATV and went quading. He was all that I was thinking about as I bused from his house back to Sidney. I was under the impression that tonights "party" at Donny's was going to be extremely lame.

"What do you mean you aren't drinking?!" Donny asked as he held the front door open for me. I explained for a third time: I have to work tomorrow, I don't have any booze and my dad is picking me up in four hours. Donny ignored the most important bits, "I'm sure you could pawn some booze off of me once I have had a few!" he winks at the end and turns to walk into his house, leaving me with a pile of shoes. I slip off my boots and check my reflection in the mirror, my new jeans look good and my hair is falling right into place. I followed the same path Donny took, and enter the main room-everybody looks up but I look for and see his blue eyes first. He smiles. I feel like there is more to his smile, we haven't seen each other in a while and I sense it in his smile. I tear my eyes away and head for the kitchen, where there is food every where. I lay out my contribution to the potluck and turn back to the party, still disinterested and my mind wanders to TallDark&Handsome.

The night goes by slowly. Our bellies are full and we have a couple of poker games under our belt so we meander to the deck and light a fire in the stove. BlueEyes is becoming a social butterfly, flitting from place to place, person to person; I used to assume this behaviour was about me, I thought I was being avoided and in a way I am. He never pays much mind to me in a group setting, maybe it's because we are both being butterflies, maybe it is because he sees enough of me outside of the group, it doesn't matter because it doesn't bother me anymore. I can get his attention if I need it. So I did. When Mitch offered a joint I quietly accepted and headed down the steps as non-chalant as I could. Usually I refuse if BlueEyes is there because I'm afraid of his judement, but I had buried that cat in that box and I had TallDark&Handsome on my mind. I wanted BlueEyes to know that I didn't care anymore. If he noticed me leaving, he didn't react but when I walked back up those stairs, our eyes met and I was pretty sure my message was coming through.

As a result of my rebellious inhalation I was neither thinking straight nor measuring when I snuck into the kitchen and mixed myself a jager meister and coke. I love jager but jager doesn't really love me. A couple shots later Donny caught onto my less then sober behaviour, not that he was a perfect example, and I blamed it on the weed. Then I casually asked him if I could have a few shots of jager and he agreed happily. And then everything was great. I was texting and flirting with TallDark&Handsome and I wasn't drunk enough for the drunker people to notice. Mitch and Travis hotboxed the empty hot tub and Sam gave me another speech about how I'd fine love eventually. This time I laughed.

tbc
(the good part is coming, this happened last night if ya want some context!)

part I

Schrödinger’s Cat:

Say there is a box, and in that box is a cat and a vile of poison that can and will burst open at anytime-killing the cat. However, the box is closed and unless you open the box, the cat can be thought of as both dead and alive; since a cat cannot be both dead and alive you must open the box to find out.

Our relationship is that cat. It’s in a closed box that neither of us wants to open...just in case the cat is dead. But what other option do we have? If the cat is alive, we can’t leave it in the box to die. We have a chance to save it. And you won’t open the box. So I will.

October hit and brought with it cold, cold weather, the kind of cold that chills you down to your core and makes you long for your warm bed, and a lover to keep you warm. I thought about my winter jacket hanging in the front closet, I had left it behind with the notion that fall is just too warm for winter attire, and pulled my sweater tighter across my chest. Meeting a boy at the beach in July is one thing, meeting a boy at the beach in October is another, but this was not the day for a crowded coffee shop setting, no that would not do at all. I hugged my arms to my chest, more for security then warmth. We had met here, at the crossing of our two roads, many times but today I was not excited, I was nervous as hell.

It’s one thing to have a friend that’s shitty at getting in touch with you, another when you know you feel much more for them then just friendly and even another thing when you think they feel the same way and they are still shitty about making plans, calling you, even texting you. This lack of communication takes my already over-active insecurity through the roof. So, the last time I talked to the boy in question I didn’t get a response and then my best friend tells me about Schrodinger’s cat and that I need to open the box or bury the cat (possibly) alive. I was less then confident about reaching out to him once again. But I did, because I refuse to give into being such a pudding.

Oh god, here he comes. I could see his distinct walk as he approached the cross road. My stomach flipped, once, twice, three times. Every little doubt and insecurity took this opportunity to make themselves heard. He crossed the road and smiled in greeting, welcoming me into a hug by stretching out his arms. I released my hands from their tight wrap around my shoulders and stepped into his chest; my hands patted his sides, arms still stuck to my body like I was hugging goddamn leper, not an old friend. We made small talk but I was more focused on shutting up the negativities bouncing around in my brain. We probably talked about how cold it was-I remember noticing that he didn’t offer me his jacket which spurred another onset of insecurities-and what we had gotten up to during the week. We sat on a log and I hugged my knees to my chest, again only because I was scared but at least I could pretend it was because I was cold.

“What do you want to do?” he asked tentatively.

“I don’t know, I thought we could just chat?” I trailed off; I came here with a purpose and I wasn’t going to let these damn insecurities get in my way.

“Okay,” he smiled a little.

“...and I don’t just mean the usual, in which I talk and talk and talk, I mean like, a real, significant, conversation.”

“Okay,” he repeated. There was a long pause. It was uncomfortable for me, but I don’t think it classifies as an ‘uncomfortable pause’ seeing as I was not in a ‘comfortable’ mindset to begin with. “What do you want to talk about?”

“I don’t know.”

“Okay...”

“Well, I do know, but, you know.”

“No. Not really.”

I stood up, looked at the spot I had just been occupying and then sat down again. “Sorry, I was uncomfortable,” I said with a laugh at my misleadingly untruthful answer. “Last week, when we hung out with everybody, you seemed, for lack of a better word: off. Remember? I asked you if you were mad at me.”

He nodded. “...and you said not to worry, you weren’t mad etc.” He nodded again. “Well I’ve noticed this, kind of “pattern” in our friendship and I want to know if I’m crazy or not.”

“Of you thinking I’m mad at you?” he said, furrowing his brow.

“No, no, no. Well, not quite. But I haven’t explained the pattern yet,” I paused, admitting truths always takes a moments confidence build up, “I just have to make sure we are as good of friends as I think we are...and that you won’t judge me if I’m totally off base.” I didn’t think I was totally off base, but I was afraid of the possibility.

He grinned at me lovingly, “I won’t judge you. I promise.”

I bumped my shoulder into his, smiling, and stared out at the grey ocean. “See, I found that when I have a possible love interest in my life-with the exception of Matt, cause you brought that one to my attention-you start acting really...strange.”

I snuck a look at him, his entire body had become kind of tense and he was no longer looking at me but staring forward and fidgeting with some rocks he had in his hands.  He said nothing and I knew that if I was right, he was deciding whether or not to be honest with me. So I continued. “At least, just from where I’m from; for example, Friday I hung out with Josh and then you and I walked away with the feeling that you were mad...during the summer when I started dating Dan? As far as I was concerned you gave me attitude towards that...and to be honest, you were never that nice to Marc...”