in progress

I lay down, tilting my head up on the cushions of the couch and dream this all to myself.

Five years have passed. I have pulled on a cheap pair of thin socks onto my cold feet and start to make slow circles towards the kitchen. Picking up glasses half full of water, closing books laid down open, picking up George and placing him back again. This is how I live my life. Slow. Methodic.

The fridge is empty except for string cheese and a bottle of wine. Perfection in my life. I'm mumbling a song to myself I haven't heard in years. My doorbell buzzes, I jump in surprise. I'm paranoid, I am paranoia, and for no reason.

This is now the truth. That he stood on the other side of the peephole. Sniffing once, coughing twice. It is him. We broke up in college, me with my sad eyes, he with his 'I'm sorry'. This isn't happening.

"Hey... Rob." He steps in, grinning in that crooked way of his. His arms are out, ready to yank me into a hug, like he always does. I'm smushed to his chest, smelling deep all of him. Trying not to shiver.

"Hey Forman," He sets down a bag and my eyes follow his body. The thickness of his arms, his full chest and of course, my favorite, his light red hair. I smile too. "I was in the area so I thought I'd say hey. Chris and Luke told me you moved to Philly."

"Yea, I've been here for a few years." I stand smiling like an idiot for a few seconds. Staring at his face, the smooth dimples at his smile, his pure blue eyes. "Come on in! Are you staying for a while?" He nods to his luggage.

"Well, I actually was gonna ask if I could crash on your couch. You know, pull a Miller." I tell him to grab a seat on the couch, and hide to the kitchen, trying to gain control of myself. If possible, I'm even more attracted to him. He's matured nicely. Gotten ahold of his college beer weight and keeps a better eye on his thick hair. And I have no beer. I throw the cuboards open; a sleeve of crackers, a half eaten bag of pretzels and bread. I take out the wine, cheese and crackers, balancing them loosely as I teeter over to him. He laughs and grabs the wine from me.

"Easy now Forman, we don't want broken glass."

"I was fine. umm, we have Chardanay, String cheese, and some Ritz crackers. How does that sound?" He takes the cheese quickly, grinning.