The Bucket List

everything happens for a reason

"Where are we going?" He asks.

"I'm going to find the perfect spot." I say.

"Perfect spot for what?"

"To kiss you." This time, his cheeks turn pink and I start the car, pulling out of the driveway and speeding down the road.

The first place I go is to the beach.

"Why would it be here?" He asks, and I shrug my shoulders.

"Because it's beautiful."

"You mean like you?" He says, and I turn to look up at him.

"I mean, I guess."

"Cool."

"I don't feel anything." I say, and he shakes his head.

"Me either."

"Should we go?"

"Yeah."

An hour and a Starbucks trip later, we end up at some boardwalk, on a bridge, looking over a pond as the sun slowly goes down.

"Morgan, this is pointless." He says.

"What? Why? Maybe we just haven't found it yet."

"We can't force it, Morgan. Everything happens for a reason. It will never feel right if we keep on trying to make it happen." I sigh.

"You're right. I'm sorry."

"It's okay. You don't know when it's coming."

"I know." I say, resting my head on his chest.

"Wanna go home?"

"No."

"Where do you want to go?"

"I don't know."

"I would kiss you right now, Morgan. I know it's not exactly everything you wanted, but have you ever wondered if what your looking for isn't always what you need?"

"What does that mean?"

"I used to think that having sex with people was what I needed, but then I realized that I didn't need it. I wanted it. And then I talked to you, and then I didn't even want it anymore. So maybe we don't have to kiss to feel satisfied. Maybe you think it's what you need, but it isn't."

"It really feels like it is."

"I know. It's like that for me too."

"So now what?"

"So now we wait. For the perfect moment."

"I thought you weren't supposed to wait for the perfect moment. I thought you were supposed to take the moment and make it perfect. Or at least that's what I read online." A soft chuckle escapes his lips.

"It doesn't apply to every situation. Especially if you don't even know what you need."

"I need you." I blurt out, and then just stare up at him, shocked that I had just said that. "I mean," I try to save myself, "you've been there, through it all, you know? You helped me when I was at my worst.  And you're still here, and-"

"Morgan."

"Yeah?"

"Stop talking."

"Okay."

"Let's go home." I nod. He takes my hand and walks with me back to the car.  Angry, I sit in the passenger seat and cross my arms while he drives me home.

"I hate the world today." I mumble, looking out the window.

"What?" He says, looking over at me.