It's You. It's Always Been You.

Decisions

The sky outside was sunny with marshmallow clouds, and although she was having a very terrible day, she couldn't be mad at it for being happy. After all, her misery didn't have to be anyone else's. Not for now, anyway.

It was a confusing thing, where she was-- what kind of a predicament she had gotten herself into.

She'd been friends with him for a while. Their first encounter was terribly awkward, and although in retrospect it seemed as if he felt he was the awkward one, at the moment she had placed the entire burden of the discomfort onto her own shoulders.

He was seeing someone else-- a kind blonde named Jane-- when they first met. That was a good thing, she told herself, because she never wanted to date anyway. They talked more and more frequently. The conversations were entirely innocent, but she couldn't help but feel a tinge of guilt about spending so much time with him when she wasn't the one dating him. And besides, why was she spending so much time with him?

He was nice, but she didn't care for him much. And she didn't want to date him.

Then, Jane left. She went traveling. It had been a long time coming-- and everyone knew it. Leaving didn't really mean leaving though. Jane was gone from his life, and yet, Jane was still there, present, in his mind.

Mind.

Minded.

She had said she didn't want to date. And then she realized, when seeing Jane still there, that she sort of did. She minded.

Bright minded. That's what he called her. He called other girls things like that too, though. Pretty and kind and beautiful and "Can I get your number?".

He spent more time with her than anyone else. Moments of his sweet compliments were interrupted by more moments of sweet compliments directed towards other girls. He wasn't insincere. He meant them, and he meant them kindly, but the confusion was driving her mad.

He told her to sit next to him. He brushed against her and apologized for it. "You're a great friend." He would say, but the inflection he said it with didn't sound like he was dismissing the notion of romance.

Chaos.

He took her hand in his.

"When did you decide this was something you'd do?" He asked.

She was taken aback by the forwardness of what he had asked. "Well, I don't really decide what I'm going to do in these situations. I think about what I think I'll do, but I feel like you never really know until it's actually happening." She paused. "But," she continued, "If I had to give you a time frame I'd say about a week ago-- no," she amended, "Three days. Somewhere in between the two."

He nodded.

"Okay," she said, "Now you answer your question."

"About three hours ago." He told her. "When we were talking with your roommate about going for things."

She felt a little foolish. As if he was just granting her a reward. But then he went on. He told her there are different levels with a girl. There's someone you like for two days, two weeks, and two months.

"You made it past the two months." He said.

"Oh. Thanks." She said.

But where was Jane?