Page 2 of Mark Us Little Bear
After all, she broke up with me.“We can try those things together,” I press. A million thoughts swarm my brain but I never turned her down when she wanted to try something.
“Ronnie,” she veers her gaze away from me and I already know it’s too late, “I started texting another guy.”
That’s where she lost me.
Instead of coming to me, confronting me, telling me what she needed so we could work on our intimacy—she chose someone else who didn’t know anything about her.
She told me I broke her heart first because I worked too hard. But she never understood why I did it; why I have to be the responsible one, always moving forward and solving one problem until the next arises because if I wasn’t the voice in my head screamed in my ears so goddamn loud. But the fucked up truth is that I understood her reasons. I just wished she’d done it differently but it was her choice. My scars seared into my soul a long time ago by the time I turned twelve. Like everyone, I live with a reaper over my shoulder, but that reaper is brutal when he summons his friend to attack my weakest parts.
When I was alone after we broke up it fueled me to open my computer and write for the first time. The urge to express myself with words was always present but I didn’t know where to begin until I stared at a blank page and poured my heart out.
I draw a long inhale as I quiet my racing thoughts. Tonight I want to forget my ex and her unnecessary drama.
“WATCH OUT! OMG!” A shout and a motorcycle engine cuts my thoughts.
I snap my eyes open, blinded by the brutal light the bike in front of me projecting. I stand an inch away, mouth hangingopen, and heart hammering.When I said I wanted to forget I didn’t mean a concussion, amnesia, or death.
“You almost ran me over!” Those are the first words to escape my mouth while my hand clutches onto the keychain attached to my belt loop. “Who rides full speed in a parking lot?”
A woman’s soft voice reaches me as she kills the engine. “Are you okay?” She takes off her helmet and rushes to my aid. “Are you hurt? I’m pretty sure I stopped in time.” Her features pinched with panic.
Knowing it’s partly my fault since I was in my head, not paying attention to my surroundings, “I’m fine. It wasn’t your fault.” In a calm tone, I reassure her. “But be careful, almost is a thin line.”
“Almost is a keyword.” She retorts condescendingly.
Stuffing my hands inside the pocket of my hoodie, I comment sullenly, “Is that an apology?”
Her lavender strands sway around her shoulders, but the flash of anguish her eyes reflect shoots a pang right to my chest. “I’m sorry. Let me buy you a drink, I really don’t need a lawsuit.”
“I’m not going to sue you, nothing happened.” I hurry to respond because I didn’t mean to sound like a dick. “But I’ll take that drink.”
“What are you doing in the middle of a parking lot anyway?”
I’m not sure whether I’m entertained or just accepting the circumstances. “Trying to breathe, you know.” I chuckle and huff.
“You gotta be careful it’s a thin line betweenbreathing and not dying.“ Now, she’s using my words to sass back and I may be amused despite the flash of death that crossed my vision.
I stare at her from the corner of my eye. “Yeah, the warning signs are everywhere.”
“You must listen to the signs.”
“If the sign says jump,” I take a deep breath and sigh, “You have to jump.”
“Yeah, you must unless…”
“Unless…” I repeat.
We mirror each other’s wide grin, saying in unison, “Wealmostjump.”
A few cars enter the parking lot and we move to the side.
“After all, it is a keyword.” She quips, straightening her leather jacket.
“Surprisingly, I already feel better.”
“Rough day?” she teases, a tiny curve forming in the corner of her mouth. “I’m having a rough week myself.”
I side-eye her, arching my eyebrows to send my message but she nonchalantly moves past me toward the club.
