Fiction: Crossroads

Hey, I just realized that you left without taking a key, so you can’t get in…I’m just walking around outside trying to figure out where to leave one for you since I’ll be at work when you come back.

I guess if you come back…

I’m really sorry, because it seems like I hurt your feelings, but I’m not sorry for what I said. My therapist tells me that I need to value myself, to put myself first sometimes, to say what I want and what I don’t want so that’s what I did.

Also I don’t want to go see your brother in Kitchener for my holidays. I didn’t have a good time when we went last year; you guys spent the whole time talking about people I don’t know and places I’ve never been, getting drunk and high while I sat with his stupid cat on the porch and watched the people going to the festival, wishing I was one of them. I went because that’s what you wanted to do. I’m not that person any more.

Which I guess puts us at a crossroads. I’m going to fly to Vancouver and take the ferry over to the island for a few days, then go back to the City and get a tattoo. Maybe a totem, I’m not sure yet. I guess you can come if you want, but maybe it’s better if I just go by myself. Yeah, I think I should just go. Scratch that invite.

So I’m not going to leave a key out. I’ll get you your stuff after I get back. Don’t call me when you get this. It really doesn’t matter anymore.

Oh man, you know what? I feel good now. Really good. I guess that’s it. Alright. Bye.