Izan and Mist

Chapter 4 (Mist): Pitching A Tent

I could read Izan's face, his oh, shit expression when he got through telling me that he'd been worried for three days and deserved better. With his words and attitude, I felt backed into a corner, as if he'd come here for a showdown instead of a reconciliation. I didn't do showdowns, I rarely did uncomfortable confrontations and I definitely didn't do fighting very often.

Looking back, I could honestly say that in the two years I'd been with Izan, I'd argued more with him than with all the other people in my life combined. I wasn't certain if that was a sign of my growth, the depth of my feelings or a sign that he and I weren't meant to be. And that thought hurt because I did love Izan like I'd never loved anyone before and had spent a lot of my time over the last two years imagining our future together.

My hand went to the crystal in my pocket that my grandmother had given me when I dropped off the honey. She'd taken one look at my face and had gone to her crystal closet. When she returned, she poured a bloodstone into my hand from a little bag.

For courage, Mist. This will help you face your struggles courageously.

My grandmother provided everyone on the commune with crystals because she not only had an ability to read people, but she also had an affinity with the crystals and was able to combine her gifts to give people whatever energy she sensed they needed.

Courage, Mist.

"Goodbye, Izan," I said, trying to sound firm.

His face was confused because whatever he was expecting from me, goodbye, Izan wasn't it. "What? What do you mean? I don't understand."

"I mean goodbye. Adiós," I clarified. "Adieu, auf Wiedersehen, au revoir, arrivederci. Goodbye."

He walked to me and placed his hands on my shoulders and ran them down to my upper arms. "Talk to me, Mist. Goodbye like you want me to leave for now or goodbye for good?"

He was making this so difficult and after what I'd heard the other night, I wasn't sure why he wasn't jumping at the out I was offering to him. "For good."

Izan bent at his knees so he could be face-to-face with me. "This isn't the time to stop talking to me, Mist. Are you saying you want us to stop seeing each other? Break up?"

I was beyond my comfort zone right now. Before Izan, all the guys I'd dated had broken up with me. I'd never been the one to end things.

You're just...kind of out there, Mist.

You're a nice girl, but you're too weird for me.

I really like you, but your laid-back vibe is too much.

Not sure how to say it other than you're a throwback to a different decade.

When I'd met Izan, I'd felt accepted by him in a way I never had before. He'd asked me questions about how I grew up and had never indicated he thought anything about me was weird.

"It's definitely different," he'd said, his tone not judgmental, and I knew judgmental tones. "But there're a lot of ways to grow up different and having an entire community looking out for you and helping to raise you sounds kind of cool."

Izan had never said he thought I was out there, but someone had clearly told his family things about me, things I'd never discussed with them. And maybe they'd just taken their cues from him when they started trash-talking me. Who knows what he'd been saying behind my back?

"Yes, I think we should break up," I said so he'd be perfectly clear about my meaning. 

Because you let everyone say horrible things about me. Because you never stopped Yvette from causing trouble. Because your friends don't want you with me and I'll always know what they think about me.