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What do we do with this thing we call 'us'?
He sat criss cross, his eyes staring into hers, every ounce of attention on hers; the color of an angry ocean ready to throw her storm at him.
"You just don't talk enough."
The words sounded small and ridiculous as they fell from his lips. He was childish, he was wrong.
She pushed him, her blonde curls bouncing as force built up and flowed through her arms.
"I can't believe you! If it matters so much, just go find a new, more talkative girlfriend."
He did.
In fact, he found at least three. And none mattered as much to him as she did. All he could think of were those raging seas of her eyes, and the tears she shed for him.
His heart was falling into an incurable pattern full of her and her being. Without her, he was empty. He was okay, he was living, but who was he now?
She could see it. She saw him look at her. She heard his words. She knew that smile.
But she just didn't seem to care anymore.
She was living without him. And through the Mercy of God, she was actually alive! Every moment she'd ever spent without him had always seemed a moment that got her increasingly closer to death....but now? Now...wow, here she was...writing about him...telling the world she didn't care.
She cared about the story, the memory, the essence.
But him? She just didn't know.
He watched her from a distance, aching awfully to make a move, any kind of action...
but something stopped him.
Move...move...Iowa...gone....love, life....over.
Over.
He'd told her it would just be a break, but he'd lost his chance. He felt it slip straight through his hands like a sopping soap bar.
And isn't it ironic that it dried in just enough time for the Iowan boy to catch it.
Disgusting.
His stomach hurt as he waved to her from his locker in the hallway. All she gave him was a smile...and he saw them for the very last time.
Raging, angry oceans screaming, 'How could you?'
And just like that.
He.
Caved.

The neighbors said she moved away...funny how it rained all day....
The wheels skidded on the ground 3 times before making complete contact with the runway of Dallas, Texas.
It wasn't her home anymore.
The rain was pouring angry droplets on every Texan's head as she walked out and watched them, so full of purpose.
'Oh, honey! I'll be home soon. Can't wait to see you.'
'Mom!'
'It's so good to see you, sugar, welcome home.'
Every word stung.
They were home.
She was lost.
And then, there she was, walking toward me brightly, bouncily. My sister.
We both squealed as we pulled each other into an embrace. I sucked in all the air around us before letting loose an inaudible sob.
"I've missed you."
She squeezed me into a constricting hug and a tingling realization reached me.
She was my home.

Go.
The road is looking awfully beautiful these days.
Each side lined with golden rows of corn. I feel stupid among the farmers of soybeans and corn.
Like they know something I don't know.
I bite into my chocolate chip cookie as I take my eyes from the window for a split second in order to make my way to the door.
Coincidentely enough, Should I Stay or Should I Go is blaring in my brain.
One more step out this rundown hunk of junk, and I'm gone.
I'm gone.