The Choice (a Painful Past)

125

Colby scoffed and shook his head.

"Not really. Sometimes, I think that I really need adult supervision."

I giggled. "Colby, you are an adult."

His eyes widened and his mouth fell open a little. "What? Oh my God, you're right! Who allowed that to happen?" Then, he flashed me one of his huge, beautiful smiles and winked. "I need an adultier adult to supervise me and my life." He replied.

"An adultier adult?" I laughed. "I can't help you with that. I still laugh at 'that's what she said' jokes, so I'm not adult enough."

He laughed and I watched the light dance in his eyes. God, he really was a beautiful man, but sometimes, I could catch glimpses of that kid that I once knew.

The kid that held me when I needed comfort. The kid that saw me at my worst and still loved me. The kid that was my very best friend and stood by me through everything. I missed that kid.

He went on to tell me stories of crazy things that he and his friends had done, like putting a bouncy house in their pool, and putting weird things in a microwave, just to see what would happen. I shook my head with wide eyes.

"Are you crazy? No, don't answer that. You're absolutely mental. What if the microwave had exploded and someone got hurt? Oh my God, you do need adult supervision." I replied.

He just laughed and waved his hand in dismissal.

"What can I say? It was fun though. We aren't quite as crazy now, besides going to haunted places and summoning demons. You know, the usual."

"Dear God." I whispered, shaking my head.

I loved the haunted aspect of everything, especially hunting for spirits, but I could never take it that far. I was too afraid of what the spirit world could do to me, especially when I didn't understand everything. I knew enough to know that you shouldn't mess with what you don't understand.

"It's fine, Cal." He said. "I promise that we're as safe as we can be. Besides, that's not all we do. We still explore places. I guess that can be just as dangerous though, if not more so."

"Stop talking." I interjected. "I can't take it anymore. I'm literally going to be way over here, praying for your safety every second of the day."

He laughed, and I felt warmth fill my chest and stomach. He had an amazing laugh.

"I promise to be extra careful, just for you." He replied.

"You better." I said, sternly.

Our conversations were always full of so many different aspects. Sometimes, we would just be silly and make each other laugh. Other times, we would have deep discussions about life, like we used to do.

We would talk about the past and things that we wished we could change, while safely avoiding the Will topic. Neither of us brought him up.

One night, I watched as he lit a fat blunt. I got that familiar urge that made me wish that I could smoke with him. I didn't smoke nearly as much.

I still had the small joint that had been in my purse the night I went out with Denise and Bryon. It was probably stale by now.

Colby hit the blunt, hard, a few times, then smiled at me, while he held his breath. I was starting to get that butterfly feeling in my stomach, every time I saw it.

"You don't smoke anymore?" He asked, as he let the smoke pour out of his mouth.

"Yeah, I do. Just not very often. I can't afford it, but I also don't really feel comfortable smoking as much, when Ben and my mom need me at all times. I can't afford to be high, if I have to take one of them to the hospital or something." I replied, while I picked at a loose thread on my comforter.

My usual position, when I talked to him, was lying on my stomach, with my head towards the foot of my bed. I hadn't fallen asleep on the phone with him anymore, but he still gave me hell about it.

"I can understand that. It's hard to imagine you not smoking though. You used to stay high." He responded.

I nodded.

"I know. It's weird for me too, and I miss the fuck out of it, but it is what it is. I still have nights where I go out with Sherri or Denise. I usually smoke when I do that. That happens once every few months, I guess."

"You know, you should take more nights like that. It sounds like your entire life just revolves around helping everyone else. You can't fill others' cups, if your own is empty." He replied.

"Did you really just throw a Pinterest quote at me?" I asked, wryly.

He chuckled and shrugged.

"Hey, if it works, I use it. I'm serious though. You can't help others, if you're not taking care of yourself."

"God, you sound like my therapist." I muttered, as I rolled my eyes.

"You're in therapy?" He asked.

"Shit." I muttered.

I didn't usually tell people about that. I was getting way too comfortable talking to him.

"Yeah, I am. So?" I replied, defensively.

"So, nothing." He chuckled. "I think it's great. Mental health is important, and a lot of people don't realize that. Do you remember how bad my anxiety was in school? I've actually learned how to deal with it, for the most part. Sam and I even had our own mental health awareness and help site. A social media type of site, where people could feel safe and offer help and encouragement to each other, while also having a ton of self-help videos available. It was called MetaLife. I was really proud of it..., but we ended up shutting it down. There were quite a few complications." I could see in his face how much he hated having to shut down their site.

"I wish that I could have seen it." I whispered.

It was almost like I could feel the sadness coming off of him.

"I wish you could've seen it. I think you would've liked it." He replied.

"I'm sure I would have." I murmured. "So, can I ask you a question?"

"Of course." He replied. "Ask away."

"Why haven't you guys come home to visit?" I asked.

"Oh." He replied. "Well, we did one time."

"You did?" I asked, in surprise. "Why didn't you come see me, then?"

He ran his hand through his red tinted hair, nervously. "I don't know." He finally replied. "I think that I was kind of scared too."