My Ex-Bestfriend

Home sweet home

The faded red door creaks open as I am instantly thrown into nostalgia. It's been so long since I have been home but it feels like I have never left. The smell of old motor grease permeates the air from Dad's work clothes. No surprise that the decor is exactly the exact same... empty walls except for the picture frames now of Walt hung scattered along the wall. I hear dad's footsteps rumble down the staircase as I am greeted with his standard 1 second hug.  It's the only time frame of human contact he can endure without physically wanting to shed his own skin. I know it's no insult to me. It's just how he is wired. My mom was the mushy cuddler, something I have craved for years thankfully Walt takes more after his dad.

Dad quickly declares that he needs to head into work for a few moments. I know my dad is just desiring his solitude that he is accustomed to so I can't knock him for that. Tomorrow he will be forced into a holiday dinner with people he despises as well. Today he needs to recharge his social battery before it's on E.

As the door clangs behind him I peek into the kitchen.  It needs a good scrubbing and a few paint touch ups. I need a reason to escape spending time with our neighbors aka Mrs. and Mr. James so a to-do list is my saving grace.

I send a quick text to Michael:

Me: Dad's place is a disaster. I am going to have to stay over here the rest of the day to get it livable.

A slight embellish but I don't care. I won't be able to maintain civility at his house for 3 days. I need to put some distance between us.

Michael : I can come over and help. It will get done twice as fast so you can come for dinner.

The only problem of having your best friend as your baby daddy is that he knows when I am avoiding uncomfortable situations, but two can play that game.

Me: That's sweet but I think my dad would prefer some alone time with me as well.

Michael: Allie, I saw your dad leave for his shop. I know he isn't there. It's fine if you don't want to come over tonight but tomorrow you better give an Oscar worthy performance of happiness with my family.

Me: A whole day with Mrs. James, what could possibly make me happier?!

*barf*

At least I am thankful he understands my need to distance myself for as long as possible from Mrs. James. He only sees her through rose colored glasses but for me she is anything but a saint. It's not worth my breath to try to explain things to Michael, he will ultimately see her side. Honestly I should not have to prove that I am more worthy than her if he were  smart he'd have figured that out.

I work out my frustration on  the bathroom, kitchen and living room til my knuckles ache and my muscles give out.

I take a long hot shower letting it loosen my tight muscles from work and stress. A day filled with cleaning has allowed my mind to ponder the what ifs with Michael. That somehow over the course of a few months I'm no longer vehemently opposed to rekindling our relationship but being back has me re-thinking that. Every room holds a painful memory from that week in my life. I was so young, my frontal lobe was still developing but the wounds hit so deep they still feel fresh. 

Like every other time in my life that I have come to some ideological understanding I hear the thunderclap and rain streak my window.

*sigh*

I haven't "needed" anyone in years to coax me through my thunderstorm fears but being back in my childhood bedroom with nostalgia plaguing every corner has caused my tolerance to be more intolerant. Walt has always instinctually kept me company that of all nights he isn't with me it has to be tonight really sucks.