Getting Through The Dark

No happy endings

"If I say: 'I never finished a book' and it's not true and you have finished a book, then you drop a little sand." He lets a pinch fall.

"Ok."

"You go."

"No, you start it's your game." I almost drop my whole pile of sand.

"I already went. Now you go."

I drop a little sand. And he looks confused. As if I didn't understand.

"I have finished a book." I explain, that I was answering his first question.

"Oh. Yeah." He laughs. "Now you go."

I think for a moment than say something random.

"I never left the country." I keep my sand in my hands but some of his falls. I look at him for explanation.

"My dad needs to travel a lot." Is all he says. So he wasn't leaving the country by choice, but because of his dads, apparently moving, business.

"I've never been heart broken." He waits for my reaction.

"Heart broken like because of a break up," I ask. "or just broken?" I say slowly.

"Any kind of broken." And at this, sand falls from both our hands.

I haven't had enough (or any) experience with dating to be heart broken. But I found my questions more friendly than his. He was going for the deep stuff.

"I never punched someone in the face."

Ok so that wasn't friendly but you know what I mean. It's something you ask a friend.

We both gladly drop a little sand. No, it wasn't a full out fist fight. I just took a swing at her. What's the big deal? She deserved it. That's what you get for calling me a freak.

His turn.

"I never read a book and didn't like it." He drops sand. I hold mine firmly. His pile was getting smaller. As was mine but not as much.

"What book?" I ask. He shrugs his shoulders but answers.

"Forget the name. It was a little action at first but then it got all sexy and stuff." He smiled childishly. "Not my thing."

"Couldn't agree more." The Hunger Games was probably the closest thing to a love story that I would read.

"Your turn." He said.

I thought for a second on what to say.

"I never," I pause, think, "felt like I was completely alone."

I had asked the question to see what his answer would be but I only just realized that I had to answer it to. I watch him first. Shyly and seemingly, unwillingly, he lets go just a drop of sand. I let some fall as well.

It was his turn to go but we fell a little silent. He was thinking. He got something, I could tell, but it want happy, it was truth revealing.

"I never spent at least a night at an insane asylum."

My jaw dropped slithery and I held in a gasp. Did he really just ask that? Many questions went thru my mind. Did he now? No. Not possible. Only my family new. Should I lie? Was probably the loudest question in my head. So loud I could hardly hear the others. But found my answer. I wasn't going to lie. I looked down at my hands not wanting to see his face I close my eyes. And let the sand slowly slid between my fingers until it hit the ground.

"That's not the right word." I surprised myself by finding my voice so quickly.

"I know." He said quietly. "I'm sorry."