[22] trust fall

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"Maybe another time, Maya."

"I want you to stay with me."

"Please, stop worrying about me. I told you that nothing was wrong."

"I don't want to let you go."

"Go away. I can't do this right now."

"I need you. I'm sorry."

I couldn't sleep.

Conrad was playing a game of tug-of-war with my heart. He wanted everything from me. It was all happening too quickly. When he wanted one thing — the next day, next hour, or even minute he'd want the other. He'd push me away over and over again, only to pull me back into his arms and wipe my tears.

Friendships were about fairness. Or so I thought they'd be.

Conrad was a mixture of things. He was cold and reserved, with no trust for anyone. He slammed his fists against the wall and looked at me with a warning look in his eye when he became angry. He was overwhelmingly sweet, when he persuaded me not to go.

But each time we'd go down the same twisted path with our same twisted fights, and there was never a thing I could change from walking away with a broken heart.

This Conrad, he was a different one than the boy I used to know; the boy I thought I'd spend the summer with.

Snippets of his old self would peek out from time to time. His first day back when we went to the movies was one such occasion. Another, when we went to the bookstore and instead of getting a book himself he'd read over my shoulder. Even another, when we laid in the grass and he combed strands of my hair, speaking softly.

He asked if things were okay at home. When our roles were reversed — absolute, dead silence.

His actions affected us. Our hugs lasted for fewer seconds and sometimes we didn't even bother with a phone conversation at night. But I wasn't sure if his heart hurt as much as mine.

This moment for us — it felt like a trust fall. My arms were wide open and my body ready to be senseless and allow gravity to take over. I knew that he stood right behind me, watching my every move.

But the outcome wasn't definite. That alone made things that much harder to share. Especially when you'd fallen into their arms over and over again, but you never switched places.

So what did I do, when my phone rang again?

I, too, began to say, "Maybe another time."

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