I Hate You

09. "you're in a rut"

If there's one thing you need to know about me is that I can take care of myself. I've learned that quite fast in life; the only person you can really rely on in this world, is yourself.

It's another week, which means another project. I'm taking it upon myself to get everything that needs to be done this weekend before the workload piles up. Sometimes I'd hate to admit that I could use a little help with things. But if you want something done right, you've got to do it yourself.

I pour the refreshing liquid into a tall glass. The fruity flavour hits my tongue immediately quenching my thirst. On a hot sunny day like today, there's nothing like a cold glass of apple juice.

I step out of my apartment and follow the humble fresh smell of laundry and it leads me to the laundromat around the corner of the quiet street. I practically raised myself, but it's taught me to be a damn self-sufficient adult.

After I finished up my business I walked out of the establishment to the sight of a tall man in a black hoodie, stumbling towards me.

"Brandon?" I squint my eyes, because of the blinding sun. I recognize him by his black converse.

I was simply gonna greet him and be on my merry way when his beaten and frantic state was brought to my attention. My eyes widened at the gushing blood pouring from his nose and his failing attempts to contain it.

He stumbles over to me and I drop my basket full of clean clothes on the dirty pavement. "What the hell happened?" I exclaim.

I look around him to find the potential culprit for his beaten face. All that I appear to see is an alleyway behind him, where he could've gotten roughed up, but by who?

"You should see the other guy," he jokes but I fail to see the humour in any of this. "You got in a fight?" I ask but it doesn't seem difficult to believe.

"Relax it's not a big deal." He swats me away. "Your nose is bleeding, it looks like a big deal."

I groan and pick up my scattered clothes off the pavement. He bends down to help me. "Listen I just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time." He says.

"Okay, it's best I don't know what happened. We're gonna get you cleaned up." I collect my belongings and drag him over to the corner store near my apartment, though he kept insisting he's fine.

I bought him an ice pack and a first-aid kit. We sat on a park bench a few blocks away from my apartment complex while I patched him up. He shuffles around as I clean the blood off his face. "Sit still," I'm annoyed with his misbehaviour.

"You enjoy playing doctor, huh?" He's amused as always. "Are those yours?" He asks pointing at my laundry basket, and I look over confused. I notice the silky black delicates that he's referring to just sitting on top. Underwear that I purchased on a whim one day with Max.

"Stop looking at my laundry." I rush and burry them deep beneath the pile of clothes that I will now have to rewash. "Just asking," he laughs to himself.

His constant moving and annoying smile distract me from disinfecting the cuts on his face.

My hands came in contact with his skin as I cleaned up his wound and he flinched ever so slightly. "All done." I say.

"What are you doing?" He holds my hand before I get the chance to let go of his face.

"What do you mean, I'm helping you." I state the obvious.

"I thought you hated me." He maintains eye contact with me. "Well if that's what you're worried about, rest assured, I still do." I brush off his seducing look.

"Don't you ever wanna let go?" his all-knowing eyes gaze around the nature surrounding us. I become aware of the tall willow trees and the smell of freshly cut grass.

"I don't know what you mean by that." I'm genuinely confused.

"I mean everything, you seem like you're in a rut."

My immediate response would be to criticize his false judgement and then get back to the list of errands I'm trying to run. For the first time, I decide to look at where he could be coming from. He clearly lives life with no guidelines or boundaries. Completely off the rails. Of course a little bit of routine and a system would throw him off.

"I know it may seem that way, but I've got goals that I'm working towards and I've never been happier." I explain.

"It's not your career though," he shifts further towards me, locking me into the conversation. "Oh then what is it?" I humour him.

"I feel like your pretending to be someone you're not. Like you're scared to let the real you come out so you hold back."

I have no words to respond to his foolishness. Whatever twisted mind game he's playing, I want no part in it. I will admit, there are certain parts of me that I've kept under lock and key for years now. I've made it by just fine, carefully picking up the broken pieces and glueing them back together. But I did it myself. He can't just come in here and flip everything I've worked for upside down.

"Listen, don't worry. Just give it some thought. You can let her out sometimes." He grazes my forearm and I am suddenly very aware of his touch. "Thank you for helping me out."

"Well I better get going." I grab my basket, seeing as how my chores are not going to do themselves.

"See you at work." I shoot him a small smile, which almost feels unnatural.

"See you."