Someone Else's Ocean

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah. I think you’re stronger than you think you are. Much.”

“Ian, please don’t try to fix me.”

“I’m not. I swear, I’m not.”

“Did you Google anxiety and now you’re an expert?”

“Give me credit, I know it’s more complex to understand than watching a YouTube video.”

We stumbled down the hall and he pulled away from me, pointing an index finger at my lips.

“Hey, did you know miraculous things can happen more than once? It happens. It happens every day to someone who says never. I mean you think you know. You’re sure of it and it all falls apart or fades away and you can’t remember when it happened. Do you understand?”

I shook my head. “No clue.”

“Pity, try to keep up. It’s not simple, any of it. Not one part of life is simple. There are no arrows to guide you that help you make one fucking thing simple. Every important decision is complicated because it leads to more decisions. You decided to step into my life, instead of sipping tea.”

“Coffee,” I said with a smirk.

“A beverage,” he said in drunken agitation. “Anyway, emotions are a horrible catalyst for making decisions that matter. And some choices aren’t yours, they float away on a cloud of emotions and come back made for you. Committing to how you feel is a recipe for disaster.” He stumbled into my bedroom and I followed, tempted to kick him right in his smug ass. To my horror, he continued his reverie.

“All of it’s ridiculous and cruelly unnatural for a realist.”

“That’s, uh, sad, Ian, if that’s your outlook, and horribly put by someone who claims to be an educator. It’s a good thing you don’t teach philosophy, professor.”

Ignoring my comment, he struggled with his sneakers as he began to undress.

“Free will is a bitch, puffer fish, and half the time it’s got both signals on which can only confuse you further.”

“Ah, the ponderings of a drunken sailor.”

“Marine,” he said, looking up at me pointedly, “and don’t you forget it.”

“Right.”

He ripped off his shirt and glared at me. “You aren’t taking me seriously.”

“Oh, I’m listening.”

“Good, you should.”

“I was taught young to listen to my elders.”

“Cute, that’s the second time you’ve made fun of my age. I’ll be reddening your ass for that.”

“I look forward to it.”

“So, I’m finally free to be a little selfish and I intend on enjoying every moment of it.”

“Haven’t we already had this conversation? I’m on your side and kudos to you.”

“Look, I know this,” he said, sitting on the edge of the bed. “I’ve been through this before, so I know this mystery, the need, the goddamn ache in my chest.”

“Ian—”

He slowly raised his head, his glossy eyes boring into mine. “You’re so beautiful.” It sounded agonizing coming from his lips as if it were a burd