"I forgot everything, because I fell in love with a fuckboy and his drunken stupidity?"
LeeLee shrugged. "I was searching for you until Carmen came out of the bathroom and told me you went looking for me, and then I couldn't find Jay..."
"How could I be so stupid..." I put my hands to my head, the acid beyond boiling. My fingernails asking permission to enter my skull.
"Hey, don't say that," LeeLee said. "Love takes it toll on a lot of people, and I don't think you could've left him, he had you cornered when he was driving."
"Does 'love take its toll' mean love takes your wallet and phone?" I say angrily and jokingly at the same time, I remember being there but not there, but seeing him take my phone that was in the street and my wallet in my hand, my unconscious hand, and running away.
"There's different kinds of love." He chuckles.
"I guess... I just wish I could remember all of it." My fingernails really want that permission.
He noticed, and grabbed my wrists, and my hands left go of my skull.
He dropped one of the hands and held the other as we walked. Maybe having another person there eased me, holding his hand made it go away.
***
We managed our dream, of living together. We found a cute (I thought it was adorable) apartment in town, and cheap. Somehow I had a job at the post office that paid well, and they payed me on 'leave'. LeeLee had his own job, at his uncle's car shop, and that payed decently too.
He went to college, as I sat in the apartment finishing school online, they wouldn't give me a diploma unless I finish to their 'standards'.
I'm cooking dinner (grilled cheese), making sure not to burn them, which I somehow always do and we order take out.
"Oo grilled cheese." a voice suddenly says behind me. I jump and hit him in the arm, he gets me every time.
"Ah! You made me burn it!"
"It's not that bad this time though," he takes his grilled cheese and puts it on a plate. "Not bad, not bad."
I smile at him for my accomplishment and we sit at the dining room table.
He takes a bite of his sandwich, I watch him, to see if he makes a disgusted face, and he doesn't. He just looks up at me and I look away.
"Are you sure you're not sick?" He asked, again.
"You always ask this." I simply state, almost everyday he says this.
"You're so pale, I don't want anything to happen, again."
"Look in my eyes," he slowly looked up into my eyes and I calmly stated. "I don't feel sick, there's no changes in me except my skin, therefore I'm not sick."
"You're going to turn into an alien."
I pick up my sandwich and head for my room. He knows the word 'sick' makes me upset, so why does he keep saying it? I've been through one big thing, I can't go through another.
I lay in my bed and eat my sandwich and watching the traffic from out my window. It's not as busy as last night.
Knock knock.
Knock knock.
"I'm dead." I answer.
He opens the door. "No thank you," he comes over and lays on my bed with me, and watches the traffic. "I'm sorry for what i said. I'm just scared."
"Can you not say anything about it again?" I look over at it, the reflection of the glass bounced on his eyes, it was the most beautiful thing I've seen. The glass eyes looked in my eyes.
"I'll try not to," he said "but I could always... Tickle you back to color!"
My laughter filled the room as he tickled me in my most ticklish spots, of course he knew where they were. After a couple seconds of me wheezing, he stopped.
"That's better." He smiled at my probably red face and he left me in my room. He was satisfied, I was satisfied.
