The ellipses shaking like a daunting wave destined to turn his motivation of speaking the truth to his friend into shipwrecked debris of lost hope, his stomach turned as he saw those 3 black dots bounce with excitement as they mocked him, mocking the shell of a liar. He almost became angry at himself and his friend before he heard it: the ping of his friend’s message finally arriving.

“Is everything alright? What do you need to talk about?” He imagined the worried face that must have come from his friend reading such a message. Taking a deep breath, the sounds of a keyboard being played like a pianist plays the piano echoed around the room; it was deliberate, rhythmic but overall chaotic. If sounds had visual effects his keys would have disgruntled and broken music notes floating out from his laptop like clouds that struggled with their very existence. However, it was calming, almost like organized chaos as he played a concerto of honesty, letting the words flow through his fingers like a gentle stream. He felt nervous but happy?

The weight was gone and the overall feeling of needing to lie slowly washed away, all in a matter of seconds from interacting with someone he cared about and saw a great passion in. Such simple messages drove him to be a better person. It was almost like magic, though he shrugged it off believing it wasn’t an arcane gift and more a sudden burst of an inspirational high that his friend had simply supplied him. But nevertheless, he pressed enter! After minutes of deleting, rewriting and again deleting the words he wanted to say and how to say them, he found a select few that were “good enough” to get the point across without seeming too emotional.

He waited for a reply... then waited for some more, 30 minutes had gone by, then it was an hour and he became stressed. Anxiety was flowing through his veins like he was overdosing on the very mental illness that consumed his every daily thought. Taking a deep breath, he went to make some coffee to calm his nerves once again. A few hours passed as he idly procrastinated again, the drive had slowly faded and he returned to his routine of living like a virtual zombie who craved entertainment rather than brains.

KNOCK KNOCK His whole world was shaken like a comic book panel as he jumped in surprise, he did not order anything nor did he ever have company over so he expected the worst… A door to door salesman! A socially anxious person’s worst nightmare, the arch-nemesis of all who hated to socialize, especially in unexpected scenarios like at their front door at random times in the evening.

He dawned on his armor: a hoodie and shorts that were covered in paint

He put on his favorite battle adorn shoes: a pair of purple bunny slippers

He was ready! He was going to tell this person that he was not interested at all! He was fine! The battle music played and the scene changed in his head. Instead of a door, it was a runic cave that had only a door handle, the silhouette of a dragon seen in front of a lit campfire deep inside. He took a deep breath and opened the door, ready to burst out the phrase “Sorry I am not interested”. Before he got the words out he was grabbed! Oh no, he thought! It wasn’t a salesperson with a fancy new sponge, They were espionage swingers here to take his house and identity to use as an erotica mansion! He must call the authorities!

He realized seconds later that these thoughts made just as much sense as the moon being made out of cheese.

He opened his eyes to see a familiar face. He simply smiled and said.

“You couldn’t have messaged to say you were coming over? I could have been out of the house!”

His friend simply smiled, the sun basking behind his head like an angelic halo. He embraced him in a warm hug and a pat on the back before replying with a quirky statement.

“Not that you ever leave the house, but if by a blue moon you did leave, well. I would have just waited at your door.”

The scene, no longer a cave with a dragon, became a peaceful moment of two friends in a meadow of sunflowers just chatting about life like they did when they were kids. There was that hit of Nostalgia that he missed so much, a childhood feeling of a friend coming over after school. He could have sworn he was reliving a memory rather than living in the present. He snapped himself out of his fantasies and gestured for his friend to come in, the only words that would come out were:

“Would you like coffee? I was going to make one myself anyway.”