something Unorthodox

14

       I had still went on to invite him to my upcoming birthday get together, just to finalize things. I wanted to know once and for all where we stood. We met up the day after my birthday for the event. 

We were going up to the West side in a vehicle together. In the beginning, it began well. He gave me a gift and a letter. I had requested that he just wrote me a letter for my birthday way before we began to drift.

Although he had given me something, I in return had something for him. I read the letter he wrote for me with gleaming eyes. It was surely proven that he had put effort into this written piece, if only he put effort into the relationship.

He was discreetly embarrassed that I had read it in front of him. I thanks him and expressed my gratitude with a small kiss on the cheek. He brushed it off with a small smile and was oddly quiet after that. I sat next to him for about half an hour and admired him in his most natural state. 

His eyes were closed; he was meditating on the calm music surrounding us. I had tried to take his hand, but he didn't take mine back. He was still meditating, so I used that as his excuse for not taking it back to comfort myself mostly.

Throughout the whole day he was abnormally distant. Not physically but mentally. I still had something for him, and I told him I did, but I never told him what it was. Zach was absolutely normal with everyone else but me. There was no sign of distance when he spoke to Bella or any of the other surrounding persons.

I didn't want to bring it to his attention how bothersome it was; because I was consciously considering his feelings, something he didn't bring himself to do with mine. I was convinced that he knew without a doubt what he was doing and I was also convinced that he had no remorse; similar to me.

On the way back home from a day well spent (in everyone else's opinion but mine) we held hands in the car, but there was no spark, no heat, no intimate feeling. We were doing it out of habit, which would soon have to be broken. 

We were a few minutes away from his drop off point when I pulled out a brown envelope from my bag with his name on it.

I handed it to him with a simple instruction: "Don't open it until you get home."

He looked at it with a blank expression and asked, "What's this?"

I repeated my initial instruction and by then, he exited the vehicle.

In the envelope, a drawing of us from the first night we met. One that he had begged me for. It also contained two star maps of the night we first met and the night we first kissed, but must importantly there was a letter.