strange

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POSTED ON: scoopsahoy

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The cold September air blew your hair out of your face. The park bench was like ice against your skin, despite the barrier of thick Levi's jeans. Your knit sweater clung tightly to your skin, the top of it soaked with a few teardrops.

You knew this was coming. It was sudden, but as soon as you realized it, you knew there was no coming back from it.

It wasn't like Steve didn't love you anymore. But over the last few months, neither of you had been fully invested in your relationship.

You'd simply grown apart.

Comfortable silence turned to awkward tension, neither of you knowing which words to fill the air with. Anything you said seemed to just disappear into a void, and the same thing with him.

It all started ten months ago in December of 1985. You were complete strangers who met by when you kept bumping into each other.

First, it was while you were both at JCPenney. You had to drive almost 40 minutes outside of Hawkins for it, but there was a dress you really wanted for your cousin's wedding.

You quite literally bumped into each other, your backs touching for a brief second before you both turned around and apologized. It was like love at first sight — at least, how you pictured it to feel.

The second time was at Scoops Ahoy, an ice cream parlor in Starcourt Mall, Hawkins' first major shopping center. He was behind the counter with a sailor uniform on, quickly tearing the hat off when he saw you.

He fixed his hair and served you with a friendly smile. Before you could leave, he told you that he was having a small get-together with some of his friends and that he'd love it if you could come.

You two were the only ones there that were the same age. By 'friends' you assumed he meant people he graduated with or some coworkers. But they were all about 14. They got along well, and his banter with his best friend Dustin made you chuckle.

Hanging out with him soon turned into him asking if he could kiss you in the front seat of his car during a drive-in movie. It was your very first kiss, and he made butterflies flutter in your stomach.

Then came the first night you slept over at his house, meeting each other's parents, and becoming intimate.

The night you had sex for the first time, you both laid in his bed afterward and just looked at each other. He'd rested his head on your stomach and you twisted your fingers through his hair, trying to pull his thoughts into your fingers.

"What are you thinking about?" you asked after a moment of him just staring at you.

"Not much. Just about how beautiful you are."

Which prompted him to crawl up to eye level with you and press a kiss to your temple, then to your lips.

It wasn't even a month later when the first "I love you" was said. And it was completely by accident. And it was said by him.

You were on the phone with him after you got home from work, and decided to go to bed.

"You know I'd talk to you the rest of the night, but I'm exhausted. I think I'm gonna head to bed."

"You mean you don't want to hear my gorgeous voice all night long?" he joked, making you giggle.

"Oh, I definitely do. But I think it's gonna have to wait."

You could tell he was smiling over the phone — you could hear it in his voice.

"Okay. I guess we can wait."

"Unfortunate, isn't it? Adult life calls."

"I'll talk to you tomorrow, okay?"

"Sounds good."

"Alright. I love you."

Click.

You sat there for a good minute before you fully processed what he said. But a huge smile spread across your face, deciding to just put the phone down and let him realize.

The honeymoon phase was the way your mom described your love for each other. You were two dorks in love and showed it off every opportunity you got. Despite the forever-lingering awkwardness, you were completely, utterly comfortable with each other.

But then, it was like you ran out of things to talk about. That part was gradual. But when you noticed it, you realized how long it'd been happening.

You'd be sitting on his couch or in your bed and you'd look at him and just have no idea what to talk about. It was like you were afraid anything you said he'd just be uninterested. And he felt the same.

And it got to the point that you'd lay in bed trying to sleep, and the thought of a mutual falling out made your stomach churn. It was all you could think about, even at work, even when you were with him.

When you got home one day, he was parked outside your house. You walked over and got in, and he drove both of you to the park.

Sitting on that bench felt like how the air feels right before a storm is about to happen. It was a hard feeling to describe. But you knew something was coming.

And there was that awkward tension.

Neither of you spoke for what felt like hours. He was the first to say something.

"I love you," he said simply. "I'm so... deeply in love with you."

"But?"

"But... I don't want to drag you along." You didn't say anything. You just nodded. "We both know that whatever we had... It's just not there anymore."

"I know."

"I don't know what happened."

"I don't either. Sometimes... these things just happen." You felt a tear slide down your cheek. "We just... weren't meant to be."

That was when he sniffled. He took his keys out of his pocket and, with slightly trembly hands, took your house key off. He stared at it for a moment, a tear dripping onto his thigh. He slowly handed it to you, taking a deep breath.

"So... this is it," you whispered.

"I... think so." He looked at you as you wiped your cheeks, just staring at him. You gave him a soft smile through your cries, and he reached over and gripped your hand.

"Can we just sit here for a few more minutes?" you asked, your voice shaking.

He nodded, and you both looked out at the lake.

That night was the hardest night you'd had in a long time. You felt empty and wholly alone.

You'd truly gone from strangers to friends, from friends into lovers, and now you were strangers again.

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