What Love Can't Salvage

Parting Ways

The window was covered in moisture. As I looked outside, I took note of the dark sky and freshly wet pavement. The people walking down the sidewalk still had their umbrellas out and the leaves of the trees still gently shook from the light pour of the rain.

The city wasn't as busy as it would usually be on a Wednesday afternoon. I supposed it was because of the drowsy weather. A little child's laughter filled the afternoon air, beating the uneventful atmosphere. I looked to the leftmost side of the street. Several kids had begun playing in the rain. The sight made me smile, looking at their joyful faces and hearing the genuine laughter.

Maybe if I wished hard enough, fate will give me a chance to be a kid again, I thought to myself. A kid void of responsibilities. His only obligation is to be happy.

I knew well enough that it was wishful thinking.

But since when is wishful thinking bad? The questions I ask myself often surprised me than the questions I ask others aloud. They were more puzzling and sometimes, hard to grasp and answer.

"Mind helping me with the stuff?" I turned my attention to whom the voice belonged to. The person, my roommate, stood in middle of a pile of trash that covered our bedroom floor. That morning, we debated on whether or not to finally de-clutter our place. We drank on it even. Either we were that lazy and a couple of procrastinators or we loved the mess of an apartment secretly. Where there is mess, it is someone else's way of finding shit.

After two bottles of beer each, we ended up deciding on cleaning up just to get the nagging thought out of the way.

"Sure, just let me...Woah!" Your leg falling sleeping was one thing; not knowing it and standing up was another.

"Shit! Are you okay?" Gwen rushed to my side. I had fallen the moment I stood up from the window sill. She reached for my arm and pulled me up.

"Thanks," I said, wincing from the slight pain. We walked to my bed. Well, Gwen did while I limped my way towards it. I sat at the edge. Gwen had gone to the kitchen to get ice just in case something hurt. I watched her as she trailed away and regretted it. Being sentimental was something I could not afford, not at this time of my life.

I massaged my left leg slowly. The feeling gradually made its way back to my leg. After that, all I did was stare into nothing while waiting for Gwen to come back. The conversation I had with my mom the night before was seared into my head like a hot iron stamp branding its toy.

"Do you want to go home, hon?" Her voice was soft yet somehow intruding. It felt as if I was being questioned and that they were trying to get a confession out of me. But regardless, I gave in to her question. Everything—the sadness, the frustration, the anger, confusion— I poured out. Who knew that a simple question could act as a needle to pop an over-pumped balloon. I couldn't remember the last time I had ever cried that hard. It was a miracle I could still open my eyes through all the swelling.

"Yes," I quietly said. "I want to go home."

"Alright, honey. You'll be alright. We'll be there tomorrow afternoon, okay?"

"Okay." There was no finality to either of our tones. My mom and I both knew that the conversation far from over. Still, we hung up. And I haven't slept since then.

I broke the news to Gwen the moment she woke up. I told her that that was it. After everything, I was going home.

"Oh, Aria." Gwen and I never really hugged before. We saw each other whenever we'd wake up and then we'd go to bed. We were comfortable with each other so the thought of hugging or any physical contact never was an issue. But that morning it was. Because we both needed it.

"I'm going to act as if you're not leaving. It may not look like it but I'm super sad," Gwen remarked. I slightly laughed at her for that comment. She always had trouble expressing what she actually felt which was the complete opposite of me. "But we are going to drink. No buts. We are. We both need it."

Arguing with Gwen was pointless at that point. I just tagged along, going to the convenience store. Both of us mindlessly threw on a presentable shirt and made sure our shorts weren't that, well, short. Force of habit. So we made our way downstairs and all the while, the sad atmosphere still followed us. I realized that once a person's sad, there are times that you just have to let it be for a while.

"What time did you say your parents are going to pick you up?"

"They just said afternoon," I said while looking at the drink choices. I grabbed a bottle of Smirnoff Mule and Vodka Cruiser. I turned to Gwen who had her eyebrows raised at me.

"I said just drink. Not get drunk," she retorted. She attempted to grab the vodka at least but she was too slow. My arm stretched back, making the vodka out of reach. "I know. And you, out of all people, should know that I have a high tolerance."

Gwen looked like she was about to rebut but decided against it. "Fine, you win. But you're paying for the both of us, you ninja fuck."

I smirked. "Sure."

"Sure, blah blah. Fuck you," Gwen jokingly teased. "Here." She shoved her drinks at me and refused to carry them when I complained. I looked like an absolute shithead, carrying four beers. Plus it was morning, mind you. I paid for our drinks and just like that, we were out. The walk back was silent and so was the elevator ride. Gwen was the one who broke the quietness when she suggested that we should go clean the apartment.

So they we were, still not sure of what to do. I looked at my bedside clock. 9:45 a.m.

"Here's the cold compress. It's a good thing we have this for emergencies." Gwen tossed me the blue pack. I caught it effortlessly and resumed pressing down on sections of my leg to feel where it hurt. "Listen," Gwen started. "I have to go. I still have a class. Don't mind the mess. Andrew and I are going to clean it up later. I probably won't be here when you pack up but please, Aria. Please take care of yourself."

I didn't have the courage to look at Gwen. I hated goodbyes and it felt like I was never going to see her anymore. She was, after all, my best friend. Even when she started dating Andrew, she never drifted away. We were like a trio. I realized I was going to miss Andrew too.

"Don't worry about me, Gwen. I'll be fine...I'll be better. You go ahead. I'll see you whenever." Gwen gave me a sad smile. I couldn't help but tear up a bit. We gave each other one last hug before she left for school. I decided that the cold compress wasn't needed anymore so I slowly made my way to kitchen. Turning down the hall, the fridge was already in sight. Its door was covered with Instax photos of our friends. Nearing the fridge, I spotted a group photo of my closest friends. There were six of us in the photo—me, Kim, Laya, Dave, and Leo. Every group has that one gay friend but in ours, there were two: Leo and Kim. Leo always claimed that he was going to die a happy single person while Kim, oh Kim. Everyone in our little group knew that she was in love with Laya. Even Laya. But Kim just didn't want "complicate" the friendship, she argued. Laya decided that she was just going to wait until Kim realizes that she feels the same way.

Dave, on the hand, was a different case. At least he was different for me. I've always liked Dave ever since the group banded together. He was older by two years, just like Leo. They were batchmates. Dave and I had a different bond than the others and they knew that. They always thought we had a thing but we didn't. It was hard to guess when that person who you unavoidably feel attracted to flirted with almost everyone. So the only thing you could do was just fall in love from a distance and save yourself from the pain. I could never completely read into Dave. The uncertainty of the meaning of his actions was too great to decipher.

None of them knew that I was going home today. I couldn't bring myself to tell them this. I decided to just leave it at that. That I would tell them when I was ready. I was Aria, after all. I would always hate goodbyes.