Everything You've Come To Regret

19 | (happy birthday)

August 18–19, 2015

Still got pictures of friends on the wall
I suppose we aren't really friends anymore
Maybe I shouldn't ever have called
That thing friendly at all

⋆ ˚ °  ° ˚⋆

Everything was serene. The short tendrils of grass swayed and tickled my skin in the soft breeze, a miracle during these hot days. I glanced up at the familiar white walls and the small garden I was laying in. I hadn't been here for so long.

"Marianne?"

I stood up and smoothed down my floral dress, following the sound of my mother's voice.

I entered the bright kitchen, still amused to see so many plants everywhere.

"Sophie's here," she smiled, pointing her chin to the living room.

I waltzed over to the small room and my smile widened at the sight of my sister. Despite being older than me she still looked energetic and her strawberry hair made her look younger.

Her eyes lit up and she held her arms out, a big grin plastered on her face.

"C'mere!" she drawled.

My frame fell into her arms and I squeezed her, inhaling her familiar scent.

"Hey bubs," I mumbled into her shoulder.

"Hey bubs," she mimicked me, releasing her grip to look at me from head to toe. "Look at you. You look so good."

A warm smile settled on her lips as she kept her hands on my shoulders. She had always been so touchy, and that was probably the thing I like the least about her.

"I could say the same about you," I smiled back, already feeling better.

"Yeah, well, that's because I found someone who treats me well," she shrugged, shifting on her feet excitedly.

Glad for the distraction she was about to give and seeing how happy she looked, I sat down on the couch and patted the empty seat next to me.

"How was it?" I asked, ready for all the details.

"A dream. I'll bring you there one day," she smiled, grabbing a mug filled with coffee on the coffee table.  "And I met someone. We call him Al."

"Al?"

"Alan."

I nodded, clearing my throat. "And when can I meet him?"

"When we'll see Paul again," she smirked teasingly but stopped when she noticed my uneasiness.

"About that..." I started, but she cut me off.

"Did he cheat on you?"

Sometimes I thought that she knew me better than I knew myself. She seemed to know everything about me. Well, not everything but a big part of it.

I shook my head, fiddling with the rings on my fingers. "No, no, he didn't. We broke up in March, but we're good now, I guess. He messaged me once or twice to check how I was doing."

I wasn't so uncomfortable with this fact anymore. I accepted that life - or rather people changed and I had moved on. I even told my parents without being embarrassed about it, because I knew how better I was alone.

"That's nice. I mean, that's sad for you, but nice of him."

I wasn't sure if I could agree. He hadn't been so "nice" when he ditched me. He was just being decent.