Dried tears marking my face. The dark gray sky sucking the life out of every surface it touches. God it’s too cold for this. My hands are falling out hard, like if I took my gloves off and I had the skin color of a smurf I wouldn’t be surprised. Doesn’t help that every single behmouthe of metal that is car creates enough wind to send me flying to Brazil.

Who cares if physically I feel like a hybrid between a pile of garbage and frosty snowman, I have to go and see her. I have to make it known that I’m different, that she doesn’t have to fear me leaving.

I’m very new to this type of responsibility and when I say this type, I mean any responsibility at all. One would think the months of spewing bullsh*t about how I’d be such a good boyfriend would be enough for me to formulate some sort of plan on how I’d like to spend my future with her, but of course, I don’t have a plan in the slightest. Between the time we spend playing Mario Party with friends, watching musicals, or just laying there, I’ve never had to think about what I myself can offer. 

Whether it be the time she handed my *ss to me for scaring her after we watched “It”, the time she invited me to her first big performance, making me realize that she had more talent in her thumb than I do in my whole body, or the time we got caught by her brother as he walked into the room unannounced forcing my dumb*ss uncomfortably explain to my best friend that I’m dating his sister and that he shouldn’t tell anyone or else I’ll be crucified on the spot, she’s always been something for me to remember, but what am I, what can I bring. 

Whenever I’m in her room that’s only cleaned on the surface, as if to hide the imperfections from anyone just looking, I’m home. I don’t have to worry about bullsh*t expectations, I don’t have to worry about being somewhere or doing something, I don’t have to worry about anyone else other than the person right in front of me.  When I leave that room, I miss putting on my terrible mickey mouse impresion to creep her out, I miss making fake insults and watching her try and hit me for them, and I miss her because finally, there’s someone who doesn’t make me feel like the aborted child of satan sent to earth to be kicked around on the floor.

 Even when I  lay alone in my cold, sh*tty  room, on a small empty bed that of course no one has been on, I have  a grin across my face as we talk over the phone every night. Telling her about how I was feet away from a fight during lunch, how I got caught daydreaming in history, or talking about how our friends are going to murder me when we tell them about us. Maybe I can’t see her as much as I’d like, which is admittedly constant, and maybe hearing her say she doesn’t deserve any of it makes me feel like a spider after encountering a vacuum, but so what. I don’t care what happens to me, I never have, I’m just an idiot who is in way over his head. 

 I need to walk her home, it’s too dark to let her walk alone. At least that’s how I justify wanting to go see her at any given opportunity. 

I was out of breath trying not to let the little sh*t head inside my thoughts telling me that I’m stupid for biking to another town in the winter stop me. Twenty minutes of hell is worth it, worth seeing her in her school uniform trying to act like she isn’t cold as if not to worry me. 

My phone, placed on a grip in the middle of my handle bar, flashes a dumb picture of a fat guy, my dad’s calling me. He’s calling me to tell me to come home, to tell me that it’s too cold and that I shouldn’t be out that late

 I chose to let it ring, to keep on pedaling. He’s my dad and he loves me but I don’t need his fake sympathy now. I’ve been doing this every day for months now and I don’t want to ruin the best part of my day just because it’s winter. Seeing the bleak weather is just a challenge, I’d rather do this than sit at home hunched over in my room just staring at my phone.

The call request finally disappears, but it’s followed by a text message, which is followed by another, then one from my brother, and a call from my sister. 

“Just shut the f*ck up already.” I don’t want to hear their bullsh*t that I’m not safe or that I should be home. They only care because I’m not supposed to want anything, because I’m the youngest kid and I’m the last chance of perfection they’re going to get. The mechanic, the doctor, the lawyer, and the analyst, all yelling at me because they “want the best for me”. 

They can kindly screw off, I’m not the one getting high before and during school, I’m not the ones who cut class because they felt like it, I’m not the one who got caught drunk with my friends, I’m not the one who gets caught sneaking in and out, I’m not the one throwing parties all the time even though my siblings are trying to sleep but I’m the one being told not to, being constantly warned that I might f*ck everything up, that I might waste my potential, but now that I want to do something that’s not even just for myself, something that finally makes me happy, they call me stupid, irresponsible, and wasteful. 

I forgot to mount my light to the front of my bike, I couldn’t see sh*t. Thankfully there’s a  flashing red light under me that gives me enough contrast to let me avoid anything I would bash my face into. Some white Fiesta pulls up next to me at the light. This old lady lowers her window.
“Go home, you have no business being out this late by yourself!” 

“Okay then…” 

I chose to ignore her because I just can’t deal with anyone’s sh*t right now, thinking she’d give up and just raise her window.
“Are you listening to me?” She pulls forward as if to cut me off, blocking my path forward.”  “This is why beaners like you get yourselves killed!” 

“Excuse me? Ma’am, respectively, suck a d**k. You don’t know where I’m going or why I’m going.” The light turned green but she refused to move. “Move out of the way!” She just replies with her horn. Instead of waiting for her, I just kick  her mirror and jump the curb, she’s not moving any time soon.

The persistent horn as I move forward for a few blocks makes me veer off the street, not like anyone is going to get out of their car to help me deal with this prick. It’s a one-way but I’ll manage. Every imperfection on the street is starting to bother the sh*t out of me, every bump, hole, sudden changes in level, manhole covers, all of it.

I tell myself “It’s fine, once you see her, you’ll calm down and everything will be better” I repeat in absolute  denial. 

At this point not only have my fingers just given up on fighting the cold, like they’re being burned. My toes are beginning to go too. All my appendages are just shot, but they still work don’t they? They can turn and petal just fine so f*ck their warmth. I wish I brought a face covering though, not because I’m cold but I’m going to look ugly as all hell with the dried tears and light stream of snot I have. 

Oh sh*t, I’m almost there. I should probably look out for the bus at the stop. 

Five minutes pass. “Huh, I guess they’re running a little late, it’s fine.” Kevin calls me. 

“Sh*t, I don’t feel like answering this right now.” All Kevin does is talk about video games and dumb youtube sh*t. Don’t get me wrong, when you’re with him, the most engaging dude ever, but he cannot hold a conversation over the phone. Calling him a nerd would be a service to him, but I don’t know when the bus is going to get here, so I can’t risk it, even if I need the distraction.

Another five minutes go by. The street lamp  above me is starting to get on my nerves with its terrible buzz and fluctuating light levels, like it’s just like a bug spazzing out in the cover because it’s probably dying out. Every single remotely heavy sounding vehicle is grasping my attention. My leg bobbing up and down, my stomach turning into what happens when a 5 year old learns to tie a knot, eyes moving as fast as the flickering light above me. “God… where is she..?”

 Now another ten minutes pass. I start to lose patience so I check my phone for the texts earlier. As I thought, I was being scolded for not being home, no surprise, I’ll just make an excuse like I always do. I need to see her just so my day isn’t all sh*t. I have nothing they can take away really and they already gave up on trying to be nice to me, but then I see another message from someone else. It was from her. I rush to open it because it’s been a bit since she sent it and I don’t want her to think I’m ignoring her. 

“Choir is gonna run a bit late so I’m going to go hang out with some friends, I’ll see you soon alright?” tailed by a winky emoji.“...” I sat in silence for a little bit.

“F*ck…”                                .              

The light above me finally died out, leaving me in the dark, my face illuminated by the dim black coloring that is my message box. 

“I shoulda stayed home.”