Sebastian. 

It’s been a while. 

I can legally drink!

Can’t fucking believe I said yes to his proposal. I’m fucking married to Lennon. God damn. 

We were together for like what a year? He asked after a year. One year. We were hardly nineteen. And I fucking said yes. I married him. I was so fucking desperate. 

I guess I’m not anymore. I kinda feel trapped now. I’m legally bound to him. 

Though that does mean I’m pretty much set for life as far as money goes. He makes almost as much as his dad. His dad hired him. Giving him a senior position straight out the gate. 

I’ll never have to work a day in my life. 

He tells me I should go to college or something. But one in town so I can still stay with him. He’s clingier than I am sometimes. And I can go to whichever one I want since we can pay off student loan debts and stuff. It’s no fucking joke how much he makes. 

And we might live in an apartment but his family owns the building so he gets a discount and when we move he’ll get money back and stuff. 

It’s fucking stupid. 

Today I’ve just been sitting around. Watching TV. Cleaning the house. Going through my clothes. Dying my hair. Boring shit. 

I miss being able to do shit. We only have one car and he works during the day. And Daren also works during the day. And so do most people I know. 

I’m stuck at home. All-day. Everyday. 

I go on walks sometimes. Sometimes I have him drop me off at places and spend the day there. 

I just wish I had someone to spend time with. Or just something to do. Something real. 

He’ll probably be home soon. Since it’s getting late. 

I’m looking forward to seeing him. What am I even saying? He’s like the only person I see. Of course, I want to see him. 

I feel stuck. I can’t ask for space. He’s the only person who’ll talk to me. 

I almost don’t want space. But I don’t always like the way he treats me. 

but who the fuck am I going to go running to when I need something. Him. 

I don’t know what I’m saying anymore. I don’t really have shit to complain about. 

I’ve got everything. A nice place to live, a nice guy to live with, and plenty of money. 

I’m out of my dad’s house. I’ve been out since I was eighteen. I’m twenty-one now. 

God. Time flies. 

I never see Heath anymore. And don’t think about him either. It’s probably better this way. I won't hurt him anymore. 

I don’t even really remember what we did together. I just remember that I liked it.

And he didn’t always like it. And that was bad. 

I still hang out with Daren though. We patched shit up. 

Every once in a while I’ll see Heath while hanging out with Daren at his house. But Heath always scurries off. I never get a chance to talk to him. 

Daren explained to me why he was mad. I guess it was about Heath. Funny enough. 

We finally started being friends again after I stopped hanging out with Heath. He said he thought I was doing shit with Heath. He thought I was hurting him. Which isn’t entirely wrong. I just wasn’t hurting him in that way. 

Daren still fucking loves music. 

We stopped hanging out with our old friend group. A lot of them went off to college. Some are still here but we just don’t click, so we don’t hang out. 

Finlee finally stopped breathing down my neck about my sexuality once I started this whole thing with Lennon. And when we got engaged she was so fucking happy. I guess she knew Lennon liked me or something. 

sigh.

I guess I’d better make supper. Stop reminiscing. I get my lazy butt off the couch. And around the island counter into the kitchen. To the fridge. 

I’m tired as fuck. 

I open the door. I blink. We’ve got almost nothing in here. A bottle of ketchup, some butter, and a couple of eggs. And a fuck ton of beer. 

What the fuck. 

I guess there are also some leftovers. But I don’t really wanna eat those. Maybe we can go out when he gets home. 

Ugh. 

Fuck.

Another thing I can’t do till he’s here.  

I grab the ketchup out of the fridge. Flip open the cap. And hold it to my mouth. Then squeeze the bottle. Ketchup bursts into my mouth. 

Ugh. 

This is fucking disgusting. 

What am I doing!?

I pull it away. Ketchup spills out of my mouth. And out of the bottle. All over me. 

I sigh.

And put it back in the fridge. And grab a bottle of water. Chuggin it as I walk back into the bedroom. 

I get to my dresser, throw the empty water bottle and start pulling off my shirt. 

I hear the opening of the front door. 

Fuck. 

I throw my shirt in the dirty laundry basket. And run out to see him. 

A real fucking human. My real fucking human. 

He barely gets through the door before I wrap him in a hug. “Oh, Somebody missed me?” 

Yes, I fucking did. 

I just hold him tighter. We stand there for a minute. 

Then he awkwardly starts pulling away. “I should get changed.” He gives me a sorry smile. 

I back away. Letting him pass. 

He heads straight down the hall. To our room. 

I close the front door. And lock it out of habit. 

I sit on the couch. Waiting for him. 

Or maybe I should go talk to him in the bedroom. I don’t know. 

I get up. And walk hesitantly down the hall. 

I knock on the door to our room. 

“Come in,” He answers from the other side. 

I open the door. And he’s in the middle of getting comfy pants on. 

He looks up at me. “What?” 

I look down at the floor. Rubbing the back of my neck. “I don’t know” 

He makes a small laugh, “What was that all about?” 

“I don’t know that either,” I frown, “Just been lonely I guess,” 

He frowns too, “Oh.” 

He walks over to me, “I’m not enough?” 

I look down at him, “You’re not really around.” 

“Fair,” He grabs my hand and intertwines his fingers with mine, “I work too much.”

“Sometimes..” 

He nods, then pauses, “We should get away”

I look at him quizzically. 

He smiles, “Like a trip.” 

“For a weekend.” 

I look past him, to the floor, “That’s not really-”

“It could be fun!” He cuts me off. 

“But” 

“Come on”

I sigh, “Can we just get dinner?” 

He freezes, “What?” 

“Can we get something to eat?” 

He stops. 

Then looks down. “I went out with some work friends after our shift…”

“Oh..” I say, feeling kind of defeated. 

I pull my hand away from his. 

“I guess I’d better figure something out for myself then,” He grabs for my hand again. but I pull away. 

“No, wait,” He takes a breath, “Let me make something for you.” 

“It's the least I can do after being a dick.”

Good luck finding anything you could make out of what we have in the fridge. 

He looks me in the eyes, “Let me do this for you?” 

 I stare down at him, tired, “Fine”