Sincerely, Aurora [completed]

~Ten~

Jude Christopher Brahm,

Mom is trying to get me to stay with her.

And if I'm being honest, I kind of would like to go home. Our apartment is empty and dark and you're not there.

I don't want to live in my own house if it isn't your house, too.

~ ~ ~

We had been driving for weeks, married for a month or so, and laughing together since the summer before.

You said you were taking me to see the world one mile at a time.

But in all truth, you were just singing love songs with your heartbeat, with your laugh, with your smile, so much that I kept falling more and more in love with you. And I couldn't stop if I wanted to.

"Look look look!" you shouted, waving your arm toward the left side of the windshield. "Are those elk?"

I grinned, looking for them. "I... um, Jude, those are hay bales. Put your glasses on."

You sighed dramatically and flipped them onto your nose, thumping the steering wheel. "Darn. I guess I should keep them on, huh?" You grinned, and I rolled my eyes.

"Perhaps. That way you don't... I don't know. Somehow miss the center line and drive in the wrong lane?"

"Ha," you scoffed, but the look in your eyes wasn't cynical. Only silly.

I couldn't keep from smiling at you. "Where are we driving to tonight?"

"Mmm... I don't know. Wherever we stop for dinner. Probably some small town with a cute diner and a bed and breakfast."

"I like that idea," I sighed happily, tipping my seat back so I could put my feet out the window. I tilted my head to look at you, and smiled, reaching over to hold your hand. "How's your state of mind?"

"Perfect," you replied, glancing over to shoot me a sweet smile. "I have the best traveling companion in the world--how could I not?"

"Aww. Chill out there, man. You'll give yourself a cavity."

"You give me cavities."

"Do not."

"Prove it."

"Jude, you have no cavities." I chuckled.

You shook your pointer finger, eyes on the road. "You're talking about my teeth, but my soul... prove that."

I crossed my arms, grinning, and looked out my window. "Souls cannot get cavities."

"Now you get to prove that. Good luck, Aurora." You shook your head, chuckling.

I grinned.

This road trip was amazing. We just drove anywhere we wanted to, in no particular order, and it all just worked out.

You were the most precious friend I'd ever had, and it made my heart happy to get to see the states with you. You were always joking that your pedal foot was going to wear out, that your hands were getting callouses from driving, that your eyes were strained from watching the road, but when it came down to it, we were always happy.

There were more moments of ridiculous giddiness than could be numbered, there were more haphazard driving kisses than should have been for the sake of our safety, and most of all, we told more stupid jokes than a class of second-graders.

Being married does not mean you have to grow up. Having children might make you grow up a bit, but being married just gives you someone to be silly and young-hearted with.

Or that's the way it should be.

That's the way it was for us.

"Pass a water?" you asked.

I dug around in the pile of maps and things in the back seat until I found a bottle and cracked the lid open for you.

"Thank you."

"Psh. It's not a big thing. Thank you for driving. And keeping your eyes on the road. And not getting us both killed whilst hunting for the elusive hay elk." I winked.

"You think you're so hilarious."

"Come on, you've gotta hand it to me, I can be pretty funny."

You furrowed your brow, tilting your head to the side. "Eh, I don't know. You can be pretty strange."

"So can you."

You shook your head, chuckling silently. After a moment, you sighed. "Our children have no chance of being normal, do they?"

"No, not really." I shrugged innocently. "But on the bright side, they'll fit right in. Normal is non-existent. Normal is abnormal."

"True."

I looked out the window, watched the scenery melt into the distance and reappear differently. Coming and going.

Our children. Deep down, I wasn't sure what to think about the phrase. Not because I didn't want kids... not because I didn't want Jude's kids... but because...

Because...

My stomach rolled over.

Would they be okay? Would they be well-accepted into life? Would they have bright futures?

I shook my head, silencing my fears, and reached across to take your hand again.

"Your hand is cold," you said, lifting it to warm against your chest. 

"Maybe you're just really warm." 

"Oh, is that it?"

"I think so."

You rubbed my hand a little bit, thoughtful. "I love you so much, being serious. I tease a lot, but that's my heart."

"I know," I replied. "I love you so much, too."

~ ~ ~

I want someone to talk to, Jude. I don't want to be thirty minutes away, but I...

I'm weak.

Sincerely,

Aurora

~~~

I am so sorry that I haven't updated in forever. 

I've been busy and writer-blocked. (Seriously, I had to junk 400+ words because they weren't going anywhere.) 

This chapter is short, but it's better than nothing, right?

~Anne