Forget Me Not

2. The Lone Man and Me

"And she's never bought flowers there before?" Inigo asks, stuffing his mouth full of rice.

"Not on my shift," I reply around the curry in my mouth. "Why she'd be the second black person I've seen in this town let own this shop."

Inigo smiles a little, "Same here. I'd suppose flowers can last a good while if you take carry of 'em."

"She'll be back tomorrow. I want you to witness the most interesting thing that's happened to Gardendale in the last two years."

There's nothing interesting about living in a small town, save for watching every child with big dreams grow into sad adults who know they'll never leave town. Not only is it interesting, it's also really depressing for people like us wondering if community college is really going to change a damn thing about our lives.

"If she doesn't come before my workshop class finishes, I'll be there, no problem." He grins at me like he always does, like there's a secret between the two of us that no one else knows. Inigo has a way of making everyone he meets feel as if they're in some sort of conspiracy. Like they're included. Isn't that what everyone wants? To be included?

He's also Spanish, handsome, and has perfect teeth. Charm's just the icing on the cake at this point.

I see myself as just his polar opposite: Scottish, average, gap-toothed, and probably the second most depressed person you know. Why not the first? Because I do have a sense of dark humor that balances out my biting cynicism.

I wonder why Inigo choose me as his friend sometimes. At first, I believed it was because he wanted to fix me, like I was some charity case he'd picked up for extra credit. Yet he was kind to me and replied to my cynicism with examples of hope. It hadn't been his examples of hope that had saved me; it had been him. And that's why we're infinitely, definitely friends for eternity. Life without him wouldn't be any life at all.

"Are you two interested in any desserts?" the waitress, Holly, asks interrupting my thoughts.

She hadn't been really talking to me at all tonight with her feet pointed towards Inigo the duration of our meal. But the thing about Inigo was his closeted asexuality and all the people who distanced themselves after they found out. Everyone wants a guy until they label him as a freak for not being able to satisfy their own needs. And my glaring negativity and depression drive people away in the same sort of way.

I've suggested to Inigo that he and I get married. He simply says that he could never satisfy my needs. I say I could have a polyamorous relation with someone who can. He would laugh and say, 'good luck'.

Marriage is Indigo's greatest horror. And yet it's my greatest salvation. Marriage is conformity into a life he never wants. Marriage means that someone will remember me.

"No ma'am, just the check." Indigo says, smiling brightly enough so that she blushes a bit. I snort a bit once she leaves and he raises an eyebrow. "What?"

"Nothing really. Say, how're your grandparents doing?" I ask, taking a sip of my tea.

His smile fades in a way that makes me concerned for him. "We're worried about Grandma."

I wouldn't wish Alzheimer's on anyone or anyone's family. It's done things to Inigo that only I can really see, and being raised solely by his grandparents have an added effect on the trauma.

"Shit man." I don't know what else I could say. Nothing that'd make him feel better.

He just nods as we sit in the silence of loss and the acknowledgement that it will always and indefinitely exist. He believes that the people we lose in this world will comfort us in the next. I believe people will believe in whatever it takes to survive this world.