Imperfect | est. 2015

37. Misunderstood

 I couldn't manage to fall back asleep after what they'd put me through. Sure, I felt a rush of getting over my fear without too much of a challenge, but my heart was still beating through my chest even an hour afterwards. I could hardly believe I did that. I was just letting myself blame that stupid mile of concrete for what happened to me. And now I could almost look at it as just another road. There was just a horrible memory linked to it.

Addison fell asleep multiple times between Connor and I. And when she was out, she was out for hours. She would fail to hold her own head up in her sleep, so there were several moments when she'd snore and fall over so her head would be in my lap. Connor and I tried our hardest not to laugh hysterically and wake her up. So the both of us just chuckled and turned the radio down a little.

And that entire time, while I was still dying to hear him say something about the night he stopped talking to me—he just brought up different topics. But I would do my best to link them to the subject.

But when we didn't talk, and it was my turn to choose the music, I would always play something sad. I connected my phone to the stereo and listened to the first thing that automatically started to play. And as soon as it did, Connor scrunched his lips toward his nose as if he wasn't expecting it.

I stared at his strange expression for a moment, "What?" I whispered, so Addison wouldn't be bothered.

"You listen to such sad music."

"This is true." I murmured, still smiling. I was in a strangely good mood for what I hadn't been in days.

"Why?"

 And I shrugged at his empty question, "It makes me think."

And he paused just so he could think of how to keep the conversation going, "Of?"

"I don't know, really," and I spaced out, staring out the window for a long enough time to let me drift into thoughts again. The trees raced passed the window and it was amusing enough to stare at for hours. We were driving down a road in Washington where it was nothing but forests of pine trees on each side of the concrete. It was kind of amazing to me. And I let my eyes freeze there, until I got myself to continue what I was saying, "I just imagine what it would be like if my life were different."

            "Well, what do you mean by different?"

            And I thought about it for a second. I didn't know exactly what I meant by that until I said it. But then I realized how true it was. Half the things I was thinking about were things I would never tell him. Simply because it was just me over thinking what ever happened the other night.

            "You know, if I we never met Addison...," I thought things over, then started to list all the possibilities that popped into my head, "or if I still had my little brother, or if I had a parent that would drive me on road trips like this instead of you or my grandfather... or if I already graduated high school and there wasn't still one whole year left...," then my voice trailed off when I thought of the next possibility..., "or..."

            Then Connor glanced at me and I could see it at the corner of my eye, "Or what?"

            "...if everything was the opposite." I finished, not thinking clearly enough.

            Then he took a moment to think about that, himself. He stared down at the end of the road and squinted a little—which meant he was thinking rather deeply, "Huh."

            And I just smiled a little and tried to come up with silly ones, "Like, if I was good at math and you were the one starting food fights in McDonalds."