Ballad of the Romantic

Moving.

Wtf am I doing w/my life?

Edited by JustAsBrokenAsYou  Thx, Bubbas.

"No peaking." He whispered, breath tickling my neck.

"I'm not," I giggled. I reached up and touched the soft fabric of the blindfold.

"Are you ready?" 

I nodded, eager to see what he was about to show me. He'd been distant these last couple of days. Just when I needed him the most. The baby had been kicking hard.

"Alright," he said, "Remove your scarf, M'lady."

I pulled off the blindfold and paused. He had this stupid smile on his face, hands on his hips, and this sparkle in his eye. I looked at him. "What?"

"I put the crib together! Ta-da!" 

"O-oh." 

"You don't like it," he said, smile dropping.

"I love it." 

"No, you don't. Dammit! Caroline, I--"

"I love it." I cut him off. "I love it. Thank you, real--"

"Callie! Hello?! You're staring into space again. Are you coming?"

"Oh. Yeah, no. I'm coming. I'll be there in a sec," I said. "And I told you, don't call me Callie." 

May, my best friend since nearly middle school, looked at me. "What's up with you? You've been weird ever since I came over to help you pack. And why the hell do you keep staring at that damn giraffe?" 

It'd been four years. I was now twenty three, and I'd finally gotten this great opportunity to get some of my art in a show, that just so happened to be across the whole country. So, I packed up my whole apartment and was ready to move. Or so I thought. That painted giraffe on the wall haunted me.

"Nothing," I said. "Let's go." 

I slung my messenger bag over my shoulder and took one more look around the room, before walking out.

"Finally," May said as I got downstairs. "Let's ditch this bitch." She got in the passenger seat and I walked over to the driver's side, sliding in. I took a deep breath and started the car.

May grabbed a CD case from the center console and flipped it open. She slipped in a Katy Perry CD and I resisted the urge to groan in annoyance. "So," she said, while the music played. "Are you excited to be in New York?" She sang the words "in New York".

I smiled, looking over at her. "Where dreams are made," I sang. I nodded, turning down the radio a bit. "Oh, yeah. I'm going to miss you, though. You'll have to call me everyday and tell me all the gossip with you and Grace." 

"She wanted to be here to help you pack up, but she had to work." 

"I get it." I shrugged, tapping my hands on the steering wheel. "It's fine. This drive would've been miserable with the both of you singing to Taylor Swift and Katy Perry." 

May laughed. "You know you love listening to us sing." 

"Absolutely." I rolled my eyes.

She turned up the radio, belting out Katy Perry. I cringed, laughing, begging her to stop. She eventually stopped singing and ejected the CD. She dug through her purse and pulled out a CD in a plastic slip.

"What's that?" I asked. She smirked.

"I made you a mixtape."

"Aren't mixtapes, like--"

"Oh, hush," she snapped, playfully. She slipped the CD in. It buffered for a moment, but May fixed it by smacking the dashboard. The first song started to play, causing me to smile.

As I drove, we both sang along to the music. With the windows open, the wind in our faces, I almost forgot about the place I was leaving behind. My mind wandered to the life I could've had in that apartment. A husband, a daughter. Maybe we'd have dance parties in the kitchen; maybe we'd sleep under the stars on the roof. I imagined a little girl looking mostly like her father. I imagined her father reading her a bedtime story. I forgot about the four years I struggled to build some kinda safe haven for myself. I forgot about all the failed relationships and miserable shifts at the diner and focused on the fantasy of what my life could've been.

"This is it?" May's voice snapped me out of my dissociation. She unbuckled her seat belt. "Damn, this place is a shithole."

"I couldn't afford anything better."

"Well, fuck," she muttered.

I got out of the car and placed my hands on my hips. "That's what happens when you're fucking poor."