self control

I nod distantly while I listen to Maia talk about how long she's wanted this tattoo for, not missing the comment she made about how she just "hadn't found a design she loved" until now, but not giving away how incredibly giddy it made me to hear. I keep my eyes on Jack as he does his thing, although there's really no reason to as I trust him completely, I just am always fascinated just from watching since I'm usually on the receiving end. For the most part, I like the art I create, of course there's always some duds and some pieces that just don't turn out quite right but this one's simply not one of them, and I have to admit that seeing it on this beautiful girls skin makes me love it about ten times more. Maybe I'll frame the sketch and hang it up in my art studio or tack it on my fridge, having a newfound love for daisies that absolutely has to do with how captivated I am by Maia as a person. I do notice slight hesitation in her answer, which could be a result of the pain of your first tattoo or could indicate that my suspicions were correct that this tattoo is symbolic to her former fiancé. I nod to indicate that I heard her but I don't ask more questions about the design. I figure if she wants to tell me more about it, then she will, but if she doesn't want to tell me then it is what it is.

Jack wraps up her design in an efficient way but not rushed and since the lines are fairly simple in the design and there's no color, it doesn't take nearly as long as some of my tattoos have (the butterfly was at least a four hour affair). After he cautiously helps her up to face the full length mirror on the wall, I already know I love it because I've been watching it's development the whole time, but seeing her reaction was fulfilling in a way I can't really describe, the emotion on her face is evident, and seeing the tattoo for the first time has her on the verge of what I assume to be happy tears. I give Jack a friendly pat on the back in a "you've done it again" type of gesture and slip him some cash while Maia is busy staring at her new art. Tattoos can be expensive but Jack gives me a heavy family-and-friends discount and in return I tell everyone about his business whenever I get a compliment on one of my tattoos. I obviously don't know anything about Maia's financial situation but this is a gift from me to her, just a small gesture to help keep her good day rolling.

We both thank Jack about twenty more times before we finally move towards the door, I hold the door and the car door open for Maia, helping her carefully into the passenger seat to minimize any new tattoo pain she might be feeling. I start the car and start to drive towards home, thankful for probably the hundredth time today that I was blessed enough to have her as a neighbor. When I pull into the neighborhood, I ask her to direct me to her place, realizing I've never actually been, nor do I even know which one she's in. If it were up to me I would just take her back to my place and we could hang out indefinitely until one of us has somewhere else to be, but I certainly would never assume that she wants to go back to my place right now. I'm sure she'd enjoy a change of clothes and maybe a shower at her own place, plus I have to feed Luna and I have to get her tattoo care kit together (Jack gives his customers some basic supplies but when you've had as many tattoos done as I have, you learn the best ways to heal a tattoo). So I pull into her driveway, knowing I'd be back here in just a few minutes but wanting to surprise her anyway with my second gift of the day.

I can't help my excitement as Maia leads me into her home for the first time with such a casual energy, I assume she shared this home with her fiancé before tragedy struck or even if she didn't, I'm sure it's chock full of memories of him nonetheless. And yet, she welcomes me into her home like it's the easiest, most natural thing in the world, as if I've been here a hundred times, as if I've known her several years. That is the strange thing about Maia certainly, that I truly feel like I've known her a decade, rather than just a month, with most of that month spent avoiding me. From what I've gathered, she only lost him 7 months ago so I find it somewhat endearing when she feels the need to defend her surroundings to me, as if the first thought I had when I walked in the door was Wow, seven months is way too long to not have erased every remnant of the love of your life. Time flows different once your life gets compartmentalized into 'before' and 'after' as it so often does with tragedies, especially the unexpected. I give her a gentle smile, hoping to let her know that her house could be covered floor to ceiling with pictures of him and I wouldn't think any less of her or her healing.

Although there are clearly a lot of difficult memories on display in this room, I think it's beautifully decorated, every inch thought out and everything works together. I take my time just to observe, making small comments on different items as if it's the most casual thing in the world. Things like "fantastic film" in front of the Interstellar post, and "I'd love to see you in one of those cheese hats" with a stupid smile to accompany the stupid joke at the Green Bay Packers jersey. But what really catches my eye is the photographs, some very recent, engagement pictures while some look older, two graduation photos, taken a few years apart I'd guess and the opposite party wearing the cap and gown. Pictures with various world monuments in the back. Pictures in comically ugly Christmas sweaters. All pictures along a timeline that got cut unexpectedly short. I can't help but smile wistfully at the series of photographs, gently picking up the framed engagement picture, what I assume is the most recent, the last of the framed shots on display. It's clear as day that even through a photographer's lens that the two of them are glowing. Maia looks just as beautiful as she has in the short time I've known her, but the Maia in this picture is full of life. It's like the Maia I met at the tattoo parlor was only the slightest glimpse at the girl I see in this picture. I mourn for her lost love but also for the girl she used to be.

"I think this is a beautifully decorated home, I don't see why you would change it." I comment, unfazed by the collection of memories I was never a part of and am simply an outsider looking in on. "By the way, has anyone ever told you how amazing this picture is?" I ask, holding up the engagement photo still in my hand, giving her a cheeky smile, knowing that she's probably gotten hundreds of compliments on it. I come over to her couch, gesturing her to sit (gently) beside me. "When I said I'll be what you need me to be, when you need me to be it, I meant it. I'll do whatever I can to help you feel like you did when this picture was taken, even if it's just for a moment." I tell her sincerely, holding eye contact. I have no reason to believe she doubted me when I first said that but I'll never be able to emphasize enough how much I want to be there for her, for anything she needs from me.

Piece by piece I start to understand little parts of the Maia she was before I met her. It's certainly not my business, but I also can't help but feel like every picture lining the wall helps me understand not only who she was before, but who he was, how he made her feel, how they worked together. It may seem like a bit of a reach to say I can learn so much about someone just from photos and mementos on the wall, but pictures hold different meaning when one of the people in them isn't here anymore, when pictures are really the only way to be able to see them again, to visualize who they were in this lifetime. He was a Packers fan and a guy with good taste in movies and perhaps most of all he made Maia happy once upon a time. It should all feel very intrusive but it doesn't, I certainly can't say we seem like two peas of a pod but the more I look the more I learn and the more he starts to feel like a friend. Like a familiar face rather than just an idea, like someone who I might've known in a different timeline.

As if reading my mind, Maia says just about the sweetest thing possible in this moment, that we were very different but she could picture us being friends perhaps in a different lifetime. I take note of the fact that we came to the same conclusion independent of one another, that I really am not all that crazy for feeling like I know him, Gray she tells me. "I'd like to think we'd be friends, I know he has good taste in movies and I certainly can't imagine you would pick someone that I would dislike" I tell her, before nodding when she mentions that she was going to take a quick shower, adding in that I'm welcome to stay while she does so. I give her a quick reminder to be extra careful not to let water beneath the tattoo bandage and watch her disappear. I take the few moments I have while she's in the shower to make a quick trip back to my place. I feed Luna her lunch, gather some better supplies for tattoo care than the standard goody bag Jack gives out and some cheese and crackers because I'm getting slightly hungry and I imagine Maia is as well. I'm about to walk back over to Maia's place when my eye is drawn to the shoebox that I keep displayed on a bookshelf in my living room. It certainly does not fit with the style of my home but it's far from a decoration piece so I just put it somewhere where I would never miss it, and never forget about it.

After thinking for a moment, I tuck the shoebox carefully under my arm, and shutting the door behind me, mouthing my apologies to Luna when she looks at me like I just killed her whole family for leaving her alone in the house for the second time today. I set the items I brought over on her kitchen island. Once I hear the water turn off I announce to her in a voice loud enough for her to hear "I brought over some better tattoo care supplies and some snacks too". I don't mention that I brought the shoebox just yet, I don't really know how I would lead into that, I didn't even intend to bring it along with me in the first place, but seeing it and leaving it to collect dust in my living room felt wrong in that moment. And it felt wrong that Maia should let me into her and Gray's life in photographs and I don't let her into mine in return. I'm not rushing to get to it, the contents of the box are not something I always want to get into, but I do want to share it with Maia, when it feels right and natural to do so.

While I wait for Maia to make her way downstairs I can't stop staring at the shoebox on her kitchen counter. I cannot begin to understand what it was that just so happened to catch my eye about it, it's had a permanent residence in my home for several years now so why it just now caught my eye, as if it were beckoning for me, as if something in my body knew that I should share the contents of this box with Maia. The contents of the box are incredibly personal and I wouldn't say I'm afraid of the memories within it anymore, but it still takes a lot of strength for me to open it, even now. Which makes it even more strange that I was drawn to it, that I felt, for no real logical reason other than she showed me her "shoebox" (her living room) and it only felt right to show her mine. To show her that I know, to show her that we're more similar than maybe we seem at first glance, that there's a reason my soul was drawn to hers instantly. That I am so intrigued by her not only because she's amazing but because I see something of myself in her. Granted, a younger version of myself, but all previous versions of myself are still me, they all play a starring role in the person I am today.

I don't have much more time to ponder or doubt the reason that I decided to bring the shoebox here as Maia emerges from the upper level, her hair still dripping, her outfit beautifully framing her new ink. She says something about how she should start bringing me stuff in return for everything I've brought her. I hear her words and I register enough about them to respond with, "You don't owe me anything, babe, although I think we'd both agree that midnight tea is difficult to resist" I tell her cheekily with a playful wink but my mind is far away from this conversation as I see her eye the shoebox (not surprising, it's certainly not small and I also didn't mention this to her). I figured I could show her what's inside when the time felt right, but now that I'm back in her presence with this somewhat secretive box, there doesn't seem like a really good way to lead into it naturally. So I just slide the box over to her, inviting her to take a look inside at her leisure.

"I figured since you showed me your shoebox I should show you mine" I tell her, realizing that sounds a little cryptic and doesn't really make sense but I know Maia's smart, and she'll know what I meant by that when she opens the box. Because when she opens it, she'll see a box full of old, grainy photographs. In every one of those photographs is a version of myself, at some different point in my life, from playing in the school yard to the awkward teen years. In every photograph there's me and at least one other person, my best friend in the entire world, Austin, usually with our arms slung around each other or making some stupid face or doing some stupid teenage boy pose. There's a decade and a half's worth of a timeline of photographs, from age 5 to age 20, but buried just beneath the photos is a beat up funeral program with Austin's senior photo on the front. Part of me wants to tell her what she's getting into before she even opens the box, but an uncharacteristic anxiety holds my tongue in this moment. I want her to be able to take her time with it, to piece together what happened in her own time, because the last thing I would want to do is overwhelm her with my own grief while she's still struggling with hers. That's certainly not to say grief is something that ever leaves us, but it gets easier over time, and I've had much more time than she has.

I certainly didn't expect Maia to react in any kind of way that would hurt me, but it's still a deeply personal part of me and while I want her to know about it, I don't think it ever gets easier to talk about. I don't think it ever gets easier to welcome somebody new into my life, and to show them this box of memories, to open my heart enough to share my grief. Of course, it feels easier with Maia since she was the one who shared hers first and I almost feel like I'm a month late in showing this to her. I've known about her pain for an entire month and she's been unaware of mine up until this moment. I give her time to go through the photos, feeling incredibly bittersweet to see her enjoying the photos like I enjoyed those of her and her fiancé, but also knowing how this particular story ends. I have thought so hard over the years about throwing out that beat-up old funeral pamphlet so all I have left is the happy photographs, so I can pretend that there's nothing special about this box and it's just a bunch of photographs slowly losing their coloring, but I've never been able to bring myself to do it. I hate that pamphlet so f*cking much so I bury it at the bottom beneath all the pictures, a somber ending to a timeline of color, but it would feel like I was lying to myself if I were to get rid of it.

Once she does reach the pamphlet, I see the recognition immediately in her eyes, that she knows one hundred percent now that I have felt her pain before, that I still feel her pain, just in muted doses. What I didn't really prepare for was seeing her cry. Not out of sadness for her lost love, not out of happiness for her beautiful new tattoo but out of empathy for me. Seeing her cry for me causes my own eyes to fill with tears, but I want to tell her the story so I manage to hold myself together, to stop myself from falling apart in the moment she comes over and embraces me. I wrap my arms around her just as tight as she has hers around me, because in this moment there's no imbalance, as much as she needs my healing energy, I need hers. I hold her tight and stroke her hair gently as I take in a breath, feeling as ready as I'll ever be to tell her the story.

"We met in kindergarten, and were inseparable from then on. I'm an only child, and he was the closest I've had to a brother." I tell her, although it's not really important, it's clear as day from the pictures. That we did everything together, that the kind of friendship we had felt much more a familial bond than just someone to pass time with. "It happened five years ago, he just didn't wake up one morning" I tell her, having to take a steadying breath so I can finish telling her what I need to. "A genetic heart condition, nobody really could've seen it coming, that a healthy 20 year old would just slip away in his sleep like that" I tell her, trying not to let the bitterness come through as it so often does when I get to that part. I've fought and hurt every day for the last 5 years so I can let go of the things I can't control, but I'm not perfect and I still feel an indescribable rage at how casual that sentence is, and what it means. It means that I don't have anyone or anything to blame except this cruel universe, and it's hard to hate something that large and vast and sometimes beautiful, it takes a lot of energy from you, and I suspect Maia understands that feeling perfectly. "I.. just wanted you to know that I get it. That I still think about him every day but I'm still mostly ok. More happy than not" I'm sure she doesn't want or need to hear those kinds of words again, I remember how frustrating, how infuriating they are to hear when you're in the thick of it like she is, but that is my truth, and I need her to know it.

"And for the record, I think you would've loved him too"

Although Maia's never told me the exact detail's of Gray's death, I took a leap of faith and guessed that she would understand exactly how it feels, because just like how healthy 20 year olds aren't supposed to die in their sleep, healthy 20-somethings like Gray was aren't supposed to get in a car on the way home from the airport and never get out of it. Loss hurts, it doesn't matter who the person is or how they died, but there is something distinctly painful about losing someone when it wasn't their time to go. It's an entirely different beast from losing a loved one after a lifetime of happy memories or a long-fought battle with an illness. The unfairness of it all is all-consuming and it controls you. It controlled me for months of my life. And I wish I had more to offer her than the same old it gets better that I know she's heard a thousand times by now. And it does, but it takes time and it takes help. The best thing I've ever done for myself is start creating art, art has healed me in ways that are unimaginable, and it's certainly true that I would be better off without it, since I wouldn't have picked it up if not for losing my best friend, but it is one of the great joys of my life. That and adopting Luna certainly didn't fix anything but it helped more than I ever thought possible.

She says it much more eloquently than I ever could, telling me how she's come to terms with the fact that nothing and no one will ever replace the loved ones we've lost but the acceptance in her tone, and in her words is enough to make me smile despite the tears she brushed away from my face. In my journey with grief, the biggest turning point I've ever reached was recognizing that I'd never be able to get back what I lost, but that I can work around a hole in my heart, because most of it's still there, still beating in my chest, and it's still mine. Recognizing that was a huge deal to me, and I can only hope that Maia has made it past the worst of the storm.

"You're absolutely right Maia, and you're so much wiser than I was 7 months after the fact" I tell her genuinely but lightening up towards the end. "When I reached the one year mark of life without him I felt so restless, like I was so sick of standing still waiting for life to get better. I went out that day and spent way too much money on art supplies and stopped at an animal shelter on the way home" I ramble for no real reason at all but I want to share with her my healing journey as much as the grieving journey, and that includes what started as a hobby which is now my whole world and the little goblin that lives in my home and demands I feed her. "I had no idea that those 2 decisions would be the best things I could do for myself at the time. I just thought I needed to get out of the house" I add, remembering the darkest days before I slowly let myself bring light back into my life, in any way that I could.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to make this day about myself or about loss, I just, the box caught my eye as I was leaving and something in me felt like I needed to bring it with me. I felt like you should see it" I say, smiling softly down at her. "Like you would want to see it"

Not much has changed about my day to day life in the past month but what has changed is Maia. Maia didn't run away from me again, and after the moments we shared between getting her first tattoo (which looks better with each passing day if I do say so myself) and giving her a window into my pain I feel like I've known her for a lifetime and not just two months with one of those two months spent avoiding me. I know without a doubt that I've had a crush on her but life and love isn't as simple as it once was for me and I know it certainly isn't what it once was for her. In another lifetime maybe we'd already be dating, maybe we'd be hooking up or maybe nothing would've happened at all but I know in this lifetime what we have right now works really well, even if there's a part of me that would jump at the chance to be more should it arise.

Even so, I still was hesitant to invite her to the birthday party I'm hosting tonight. Not because we're not close enough for that kind of thing but because up until now the only person in my life Maia has met has been Jack and even that was more of a business transaction than anything. I also went back and forth for a while on whether or not I even wanted to have this party. It's not surprising to anyone who knows me that I'm not a huge partier, at least not anymore, and I especially hate the idea of hosting a party where I'm the center of attention, it feels uncomfortably vain. But I am turning 25, which felt like the closest thing you can get to a milestone birthday in your mid-twenties simply because it's the halfway mark. I debated for a while whether or not I wanted to do this but ultimately decided that if anything, a birthday is a good excuse to get the important people in my life into the same room and just catch up. It's certainly not a rager but it's much more than the usual amount of people in my home.

I wrap up the preparations for the party about fifteen minutes before the proposed start time, alternating between setting out snacks and drinks and scratching Luna, who is very demanding for an animal that's supposed to be low-maintenance. Once everything's more or less in place, I pour myself a glass of birthday wine and collapse into the couch for a few minutes, enjoying the last few minutes of silence and trying way too hard to not think about two people. For obvious reasons, the first person is Austin, because life without him gets easier day by day but important days will always set you back a little. A birthday, mine or his, the day he died, another year of life without him behind me, those kinds of things. I take what little comfort I can that although it looks dusty and beat up and out of place in my living room, the shoebox remains in it's rightful place and in some way he's here with me celebrating tonight. The second, of course, is Maia, and how every minute waiting for her to arrive seems to drag on for hours, the excitement of seeing her and the nerves of her becoming more and more ingrained into my life balancing each other out. Each time there's a knock on the door, my heart jumps a little, hoping it's her but still being excited when it's not to see the people I love flow steadily into my home. A few friends from childhood, friends I've met through my art, friends from some seemingly strange places, concerts and art shows and cafes, all merging and mingling as well as some significant other's thrown into the mix, but still no Maia.

In true bad host fashion, I decide to take out my phone and shoot a quick text to Maia, not to rush her or anything, if she decides not to come that's entirely fine, but more to gauge if she is on her way and is maybe just taking her time. I snap a quick picture of Luna, typing out She wants to know if you're coming tonight. She won't shut up about it I type out, knowing she'll know damn well that it's me who wants the update not my cat (although I'm sure if Luna could talk she would be asking after Maia). I hit send and slide my phone back into my pocket before I can think too hard about it, returning to the conversations flowing in my living room.

I don't let myself check my phone again after I hit send on the text, trying to convince myself that I don't care if she comes or not when that's probably not the case. I do care whether or not she comes even though it's not my place to care. It's not my place to check in on her or question why or why not she does certain things, but I still want to see her badly so I find it hard to focus on the friends that are already here and the conversations they're holding because I'm just thinking about Maia.

I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket, expecting it's a text from Maia and hoping it's a good one but still using every ounce of self control to not be rude to my other guests and leave it alone. However, I practically jump at the sound of the door opening, knowing without a doubt it's Maia since she's the only person I can think of that I invited tonight who's been in my home enough times that she doesn't even need to knock. I grin ear to ear when I confirm that it is her and eye the poorly wrapped present in her hand (bless her for trying). Over the past few weeks we've had many quips about who does more favors for the other, who's currently "indebted" in favors to the other because we both find it hard to believe that the other is truly that selfless. I can only speak for myself in that regard, and I don't know if selfless is a word I would use to describe myself, but I certainly have never felt as those she "owed" me anything for the things that I already want to do, like taking care of her drunk, bringing her snacks, bringing her the tattoo care kit I threw together. "You didn't have to get me a gift, Maia" I joke, my smile stretching ear to ear, playing the game.

I give her a hug in greeting, but I cut it shorter than usual, which feels weird considering we've stood in her kitchen with no space between us for several minutes, each of us crying into the other's embrace. However, I know it can be overwhelming to walk into a room full of people who more or less all know each other already and you're the stranger, so I certainly don't want to imply that Maia and I are anything more than friends, to keep the sly glances and comments to a minimum. I've already heard a few questions arise from these people when I vaguely mention my new neighbor who's not really new who I'm somehow close enough to that she's invited to the party. I vaguely gesture to the living room, quickly introducing everyone by name, noticing Jack's eyes light up in recognition as he notices the girl he's seen before and his own work on her beautiful skin. Everyone greets Maia very warmly, but I catch onto the slight shift of energy in the room as my friends see how stunningly beautiful she is, knowing how she more or less popped into my life out of nowhere. I silently pray that no one makes it awkward for either of us by insinuating we're anything more than friends, but there are plenty of people in this room who find it absurd, borderline insulting, that I haven't really tried to date in a long time, completely satisfied with my own company. I feel as though most people have those friends, who will stop at nearly nothing to try and set you up with someone, who want to be informed of every little development in your love life. But for my sake and for Maia's I hope they hold their tongue tonight.

"Can I get you something to drink?" I ask loudly over Luna's meowing and chirping as she realizes that her favorite person just walked in, rubbing up against Maia's feet and legs. I can't blame her, I feel as though I'm in the same boat as her, always unreasonably excited to see Maia, always wanting her attention, I just have more self-control than my shelter cat.

Maia seems to acclimate nicely into the environment and I'm thankful for it, new environments are stressful for most people, but can be harder sometimes if you're mourning. Everything can be harder when you're mourning, sometimes not in ways you'd ever really expect. I take the gift from her hands, raising my eyebrows playfully and setting it aside to open later as Maia had advised. Knowing her, it'll be just the perfect gift but at the same time she could gift me with a bag of rocks and I would cherish it forever because it came from her. I watch as she picks Luna up and helps herself to a drink from my fridge and then realize I probably spent a little too long staring and gratefully took an opportunity to join a conversation. I certainly hope that Maia finds me if she feels uncomfortable or overwhelmed but I know the last thing either of us wants is to get those weird, knowing looks when our lives are much more complex than '2 people meet, date and fall in love'.

I stood up to get a new drink and also to discreetly check on Maia, noticing that my friend Alexis had taken the opportunity to dig a little deeper about Maia. I catch snippets of their conversation, which seems very standard questions, what do you do for work and those kinds of questions but knowing Alexis and trusting my gut tells me that I should keep an eye on the situation. I certainly don't want to fight Maia's battles for her and Alexis is a good friend of mine but Alexis and I have a history that Maia could never know about and I'm hesitant to let this continue. Alexis is an old friend, Austin and I met her in middle school and we formed a little group, often compared to Harry, Ron & Hermione because that's the only trio anyone could think of in those days but we made a good group. I always suspected she had a crush on me in high school, but that's how things go in those days, high school crushes don't mean much unless you act on them. Naturally, Alexis and I suffered a lot when we lost our friend, and neither of us really knew what to do without him for the longest time, neither of us really knew where we stood with the other because it was always just the three of us.

I made several regrettable decisions in the first year after his death, and one of them was sleeping with Alexis, both of us just desperate for an escape from our sorrows and seeing an easy out in each other. We never went any farther than hooking up, I never considered it and we certainly didn't talk about it but things between us have only gotten stranger in the past 5 years, much stranger than a high school crush. I'm not entirely sure how Alexis sees Maia, if she's sizing her up in some way, but I want to at least give Maia as much background as I can so she knows a little better who she's talking to, and why she might say or do the things she does.

I come up beside Alexis, sliding my arm around her shoulder in a completely platonic way to alert her of my presence and knowing better than to do this to Maia since it could create tension that I just don't want. "I see you ladies are enjoying yourselves" I say casually knowing that Alexis is probably making Maia slightly uncomfortable. "Maia is a licensed vet which is why I like to believe Luna likes her a thousand times more than she's ever liked me" I tell Alexis, keeping the tone casual as I tell Maia "Alexis is a friend of mine since middle school" is all I say, but Maia's smart and I know she'll piece together the more important part of that sentence which is that Alexis and I go back and grew up together which is complicated and awkward at times, and also that she was also a friend of Austin's.

I certainly won't make any assumptions about Alexis's intentions, if she meant to intimidate or was purely just curious about Maia but I wanted to give Maia as much backstory as I can with Alexis still standing right beside me, and maybe I"ll give her a few more details when the party has died down a little and I can get her alone and explain the somewhat messy history between Alexis and I. It's not messy enough that it affects my ability to keep her as a friend, I think I would've fallen apart in those early days if I had lost her as a friend and didn't have somebody to lean on who was going through the exact same thing, and not just going through the exact same thing at the time, but also missing the exact same person. It certainly helped me to feel like I wasn't the only one burdened with the job of keeping Austin's memory alive. So in short, I'm thankful for her friendship but I still am weary of the questions she hounding Maia with and the tone. My being there seemed to calm the tension slightly and I let out a silent breath of relief when the conversation wraps up and Maia steps away to sit next to Jack and it's just the two of us.

I don't leave Alexis immediately, rather leaning agains the arm of my couch and asking her casual questions, the standard how have you been and how's life been treating you and always the silent question between us how are you holding up even now, five years after the fact. Of course she asks me about Maia, probably being a little suspicious at the circumstances and the way we met which sounds almost fake even though it's somewhat entirely true. We did kind of run into each other, the friends of convenience part being a jab at me of course, but the first part was true. I shrug and brush off the questions in the same way Maia did, telling her that what she already knows is the truth and she seems to be ok with it although she has struggled for a while with my quiet and sometimes secretive nature simply because her personality is the exact opposite, where she likes to know everything about everyone and likes for everyone to know everything about her.

As the night starts to wind down and time passes with no disasters (not that I expected anything bad would happen it's always possible) and I get more alcohol in my bloodstream, I start to let down my guards a little and enjoy myself rather than stress myself out with having to be a good host. A few of my friends have started to trickle out but a handful of them stay, enjoying the laid back energy of a party winding down. Jack is one of them, who's clicked very easily with Maia which I'm so thankful for, and Maia's also one of them, which is fantastic. Her and I spend hours, sometimes days on end in each other's company without tiring of it but a party setting is a whole other ball game so I'm glad she's not in any rush to get out of here, and I glance over and see Jack pull a joint out of his pocket, already knowing what he's offering to Maia. I chuckle as they both stand up and call out that they're going outside. "Wouldn't miss it for the world" I call back, seeing Jack gesture to me to join them outside, excusing myself from the friends that are still hanging out in my living room and catching up with them outside. "Beautiful night innit lads?"I joke when I reach the back patio, accentuating the British part of my sometimes strange British-American blend accent since it's a favorite of Jack's to make fun of.