Treading The Waters [on hold]

Chapter Two.

Packing up the condo where I live, I realize just how much I don't have. Have I really been living here for seven years with only this many things to speak for it?

Most of my belongings consist of the usual things: appliances, clothes, a few collectibles – but mostly, guitars. A Taylor, two Gibson's, and one Fender. It's an addiction I have. But looking back on it, maybe I've struggled with writing for longer than I thought, and impulse-buying guitars was my way to try to fix it.

There's not much else I have to my name. The only things that are headed home with me are my furniture, kitchen appliances and dishes, my guitars, my Jeep, and clothes. But in reality, that isn't much.

I'm not even sure why I got kitchen appliances, really. I've always ordered takeout. It's much easier to press a few buttons on my phone and have food delivered than to cook something myself. I've never been much of a cook.

The code to my condo starts beeping and before I can get to the door, my best friend traipses through holding two massive coffees, a bag of bagels, and is clearly hungover.

"Long night?" I ask, grabbing the bag and tray of coffees from Kara's hand. I don't trust her not to trip in her current state, and I'd really like my coffee to not be all over my living room floor.

"Very," she sighs.

"Kara, it's only Wednesday. Why did you get drunk on a Tuesday night?"

"I went out with a few girls from work last night, then ran into this really hot group of guys. We drank, danced, I hooked up with one of them in the bathroom, and then we all parted ways."

"Kara, do I have to remind you how dangerous it is to get that drunk around other people? I'd hate for anything bad to happen to you."

Placing her hand on my shoulder, she smiles. "Oh babe, you worry too much. Plus, one of the girls stayed sober and she kept an eye on all of us. But this isn't why I'm here today."

"I know, I know. Thank you for agreeing to help me pack."

"Of course. As much as I hate the idea of you leaving, I know that it's something you have to do. I expect at least daily FaceTime calls, or at least every other day."

"Deal," I laugh.

"Are you worried about going back?"

"Why would I be worried?" Take the hint, Kara. Don't go there.

"You know why." And she went there.

"I'm not going to worry about it until I have to. Okay?"

"Okay but ignoring it won't make it go away either. You'll have to face the music at some point."

"I will, but I'm putting it off until I don't have a choice."

I'm afraid that if I see him again, I'm only going to backslide into the depression that I was in for nearly two years after moving out here.