21 days writing challenge

Cold Homes

I stopped cycling when I reached the dim lamppost by the lake. I took in the night air and the city lights on the other side of the water. They were beautiful. I love how there are certain things that can be seen clearly only in the dark. Like faith.

"You still go here when everything's shit?" A voice appeared behind me and I recognized it right away. He was a past. The person I would think of when listening to pathetic break up songs even though we really never meant a thing. Well, at least to me.

"No, I just miss the lake. I just came home by the way... from vacation," I said and regret immediately because of the sudden information about me though he didn't ask.

"They don't have it there?" he asked again.

"Nope, they only have beach," I replied short making sure I didn't make the same mistake.

It was quiet for a while before it got awkward so I decided to ask him my question. "And do you still go here when everything's shit?"

He looked at the ground and slightly nodded. I didn't want to ask him what shit it is that he was having because partly, I didn't want him to feel like I still care and mostly because I probably wouldn't really care about it.

"It makes me think of you though," he mumbled quietly. As weird as it sounded like, I was playing it cool by laughing at his words. "Wouldn't it be shittier? You know, because I'm not here... like...before?"

It wasn't really a question that I needed an answer to. It was an end road because the only thing we could do was to reminisce all the things we had done together 3 years ago. How we had our own inside jokes, how we would always find endless ways to cheer each other up and how we always had a deep conversation on every meaningless subject. Those memories were already burnt in the back of my mind. And in order to keep moving, there was no way escaping the U-turn.

"You still feel like home." He reasoned. "Even now," he added.

I climbed my bike again putting my right leg on the pedal and the other on the ground, ready to leave.

Looking at him, I said "Well, homes aren't supposed to be cold, are they?"

And I left.