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Three Weeks ~ part 7

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The next week and a half passed in a blur of quiet moments, stolen kisses, and hopes of the future. Time passed like waves crash onto the shore. Seconds melted into minutes, which melted into hours. Before I knew it was cleaning my laundry and clearing out the drawers of the guest bedroom.
“I only have 5 days left here,” I said to Mike while we were eating dinner.
“We don’t have to think about that right now.”
“When are we going to think about it? When I’m walking out of the door with all of my things?”
“Lia…”
“No, Mike. You know that we have to talk about what’s going to happen when I leave. And I want to know why you’re so scared to bring it up.”
“I’m not scared.”
“Yes, you are. You can lie to yourself, but I can see right through it.”
“What are you a psychic now?”
“No, but like you told me on my first day here: ‘It would be easy to believe if you were a stranger, but I know you, and I know when you’re lying. So why don’t you stop pretending and just tell me’. Sound familiar?” Mike looked down at his plate.
“Fine, I’m scared. I’m scared that you’ll leave, we won’t stay together. The distance will be too much, or you’ll find someone better…” I put my hand on his arm
“I’m scared for us too, but I am leaving. Nothing is going to change that, so we might as well try to have a positive attitude, and have faith in each other. We can make this work.”
“You’re right. We can make it through the distance.”
“And just so you know, no one could ever be better for me than you.” I told him honestly, smiling. After dinner, we enjoyed the empty house by blaring music and dancing around the living room like a couple of idiots. When the last song of the playlist ended we slumped down on the couch, breathing hard from all the jumping and spinning. “That was the most fun I have ever had at your house,” I said turning to face Mike with a smile. He smiled back and stood up, holding his hand out.
“Let’s go upstairs,”
“Why?” I asked him with a quizzical look on my face.
“Because, it’s more comfortable to watch TV on a bed,” he replied, “plus, I can’t take making out seriously on the living room couch.” He said, and I laughed, taking his hand. Mike led me up the stairs and down the hall. “Your room or mine?”
“Yours. I’ve started to pack some things, so my suit case is out, and I don’t want to look at it right now.”
“Alright, and don’t worry, I cleaned my room.” He opened the door and my mouth fell open. The room was completely spotless, with not a single item of clothing on the floor or furniture.
“Oh my, is that a speck of dust I see?” I teased him. He shook his head and we sat down in the middle of the bed. “So, are you gonna turn on the TV?” I asked him, but he leaned forward and kissed me. Mike ran his fingers through my hair, and down my back. I shivered as he moved his lips to my neck. “Or not” I said before he brought his lips back to mine again. Together, we laid back, our heads resting on Mike’s pillow. I reached for the bottom of Mike’s shirt, and tugged it over his head, he pulled back slightly.
“Are you sure?” he whispered
“Yes,” I whispered back, pulling his lip back to mine.
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Later, we sat on comfy his bed with a bowl of popcorn watching TV. Mike looked at me. “You’re my first,” he said plainly. I was silent for a moment before answering.
“You’re my first too.”
“Do you regret it?”
“No, not at all.”
“Good.” He smiled, seeming relieved. Then, he took off his hoodey and handed it to me. “Here,” he said, “to keep you warm.”
“Thank you. But, you don’t need to do that. I’m not cold.” Mike chuckled.
“No, I meant I want you to have this to take home with you, so you’ll think of me every time you use it.”
“Awe. Thank you. You will never know how much this means to me.”
“You will never know how much you mean to me,” he said kissing my forehead.
Before we knew it, 5 days had passed and my mom was on her way to pick me up. My suitcase and duffel bag were standing side by side in the foyer. The guest bedroom and bathroom were empty of my clutter that had crowded them for the past 3 weeks. Mike and I sat on the couch, silent. We had decided to say our goodbyes earlier, in private. When my mom pulled into the driveway, I stood up, and gathered my bags. My mom walked through the front door, and wrapped me in a tight hug.
“Oh, honey. I missed you so much! Did you have fun?” she asked me.
“Yes.” I said holding tightly onto my mom. I turned to Deb. “Thank you so much for having me, you have no idea how much I appreciate it. I hope you don’t mind, but I’m tired and I’m really eager to get home and see my dad.”
“Of course I don’t, here let me get that suitcase for you,” she said picking it up off of the tile floor. I looked up at Mike. “Well, I guess this is it. I’m going to miss you so much,” I said while wrapping my arms around his waist for a hug.
“I’ll miss you too, Lia. Call me, anytime, anywhere, and I will answer.”
“Do you want to walk me out to the car?” I asked hopefully.
“I think that it would be better if I just stayed inside.”
“Alright, well…bye.” I said wiping a single tear from under my eye. I walked out to the car, duffel bag over my shoulder, and pain in my heart. I knew that this wasn’t the end of Mike and me but I knew that things weren’t going to be the same anymore, and they weren’t going to be easy.
When we pulled out of the driveway, my mom began an interrogation of questions that I didn’t want to answer. “You know, mom. I would rather hear about your time in Europe. We can talk about me later,” I told her. She didn’t argue with me, and immediately delved into detailed stories from her 3 weeks abroad. Finally, we pulled into the driveway of my own home, in the familiar neighborhood that I had called home for most of my life. I pulled my suitcases from the trunk and stalked inside. I struggle carrying my luggage up the stairs, but when I made it to my room, I fell onto the bed. So many emotions were running through my body, that my eyes were heavy with exhaustion. As soon as I closed my eyes, I drifted off into a restful, dreamless sleep.




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