"So tell me, how’s my second chance suppposed to work, if you’re not even willing to give ‘us’ a proper try?" I ask, and for once am confident in my words. She issues me a mocking laugh, and my confidence is cast off. "A propery try? What would you know about proper? As far as I’m concerned, your idea of proper, is getting some skank to go down on you, while you find a legitimate excuse to write off what you’d do next… which was fucking her, even though there is no amount of liquor that could’ve possibly let your girlfriend of two years, slip your fucking mind". Ok, I lied, now all of my confidence was cast off.

 I stared at her dumbfounded, and waited for tears. As if reading my mind, she finished me off with "And stop waiting on my tears, the way I waited for you, because they’re just like you, they’re not coming"

I hadn’t realized how swiftly she’d made her way to the door, until I’d heard the loud clash of it, meeting the wooden frame. Her doorway, which I’d spent many nights encased in, waiting for her to choose an outfit.

~~~

"Ok, being completley serious, black or beige?" she’d ask me, more self-concious than a pregnant teenager in a Catholic church. "You look good in both" my typical answer, for staying cool, and taking her for granted was part of the front. "Well, thank you, for being of absolutley no assistance at all" she’d playfully say as she swaggered over to me, and gave me a kiss on the cheek.

 "In fact, if I can help it, I’ll have you wearing what you look stunning in-" I would corner her, up against the wall, with my two arms blocking her getaways "nothing…". This is around where the charm would set in, she could feel it; unfortunately, so could the rest of her family, and they’d make their way upstairs. Inadvertently ruining my game plan, her attempt at rebellion, and their…well…their nothing, they were clueless.

I snapped out of my reminiscing long enough to realize I still stood in her room, my hand making it’s way up and down the door frame. I opened her door and sighed, I grabbed the handle and turned it, making sure the mandatory click it always made was inaudible. I felt a presence, and without looking up, I prepared what I had to say to her. "Look, I know I messed up, but I need for you to understand that it was a-" finally looking up, I realized if I might had done so sooner, I’d have spared some embarassment. Her older sister, scowling, hand on hip, other raised high in the air, wasted no time litterly letting my emotion slap me. "You’re such a fucking prick"