This is Our Story

Home

"Here are some blankets so you can make yourself a bed on the floor of the living room!" Jewels says cheerfully while leaving what looks like at least eight thick blankets on the sofa I'm currently sitting on. "Or... you can just sleep on the sofa, but it's way too small and uncomfortable anyway."

I do not utter a word as I look from the blankets, to Jewels, then to her.

She's sitting on a stool in front of the counter in the kitchen, typing like a maniac on her computer since we got here. There's a small frown across her face and three cups of half empty coffee to her right.

Jewels follows my gaze and shrugs.

"Inspiration." Is the first word she says, as if it explained it all. As if it was a term that meant more than what it does and I'm supposed to get that already. "She's probably gonna be there for a while, if she's bothering you, just tell her to close the lights. The girl's a freaking bat."

I don't say anything and Jewels eventually goes back to her room. She was probably anticipating more action, more drama. She should've known better.

She's Skye Grace and I'm... me. I'm me after all. If I enjoyed drama, I wouldn't have fallen this deep in love with her. I wouldn't be feeling this way right now.

I clear my throat as I unfold one of the blanket, fold it in half, and lay it down, right next to the couch.

I expect her to look at me, to speak up at any moments, but by the eighth blanket, I begin to lose hope as the sound of the typing only intensifies.

Doesn't she feel anything at all? It seems impossible. She changed, I can feel it. I know it.

Strangely, as foolish as it sounds, I want to get to know her again.

One thing is sure, she is still as hard to approach as she used to be, if not even harder.

I take the pillow Jewels gave me earlier and lay down, careful to not make a noise, to not disturb the fragile calm that has been reigning in until now. I observe her from afar and try to notice something. Anything that would possibly give me an explanation as to what has now changed about her, because the person who's in front of me still hauntingly looks exactly like Skye Grace to me. Even though I know deep down within that after everything, she could not possibly have stayed the exact same girl I fell in love with.

The idea that she grew so much, that her person has evolved without me is not something I want to see or am willing to accept just yet.

I look at the time.

9:55

I tell myself that in five minutes, if she doesn't speak up, I will.

The sound of her typing fills the air as five minutes pass by.

I tell myself that I'm going to wait another five minutes.

Then, an hour passes by.

Neither of us have spoken up and I wonder what she's thinking right now.

Does the thought of me being in the room right next to hers makes her crazy anxious or does she not care at all? Am I making her feel something else but angry, sad or upset?

She suddenly stops typing and I stop breathing in anticipation to what she's about to do next.

Except the only thing she does is get up to boil some water for her next cup of coffee. It's as if I wasn't even there, right in front of her.

I sigh as I pass a hand over my face and sit up. This is ridiculous. This is not us. I'm not going to let this happen to us.

I get up silently and join her in the kitchen.