Disclaimer: Yeah, I own other. Seriously dudes, don't sue me. I have no money. I have to save up to buy a bag of Skittles. I'm pathetic.
Authors Note: I'm amazed I wrote this. I'm not a touchy-feely girl. If certain people ever read this it would put them in cardiac arrest. I guess I was just in a sappy mood. Don't get use to it. Shoutout, as usual, to American Idiot/Laura/Whatever for title help.
He was there.
It didn't matter that you had only spoken to him once in five years via instant messanger before you had decided that technology would, in fact, be the cause of your death and had sold your computer. But selling your computer had kept you eating that month, so it was no big loss.
You could remember the last time you had seen him. It had been raining. Since when did it rain that much in July? Joan and Adam had been drunk. Not drunk like your mother, but more in the celebratory bliss sort of way. But it was forgiven because it was their wedding night. They had been dancing around the room to some Alanis Moristte song, acting as if they were the only people in the world. In 20 years of friendship you had never seen Adam so happy. You had been sitting at a table watching the two of them take over the dance floor and wondering what Joan had been on when she decided to play an Alanis Morisette song at her wedding. You were picking at the silky blue fabric of the dress Joan had picked out for you to wear that day, only for Joan Girardi would you be caught dead in a silky dress, and he was sitting in the seat next to you. You remembered that he had reached over and taken your hand and given you that look that made you get all flustered and light headed, even if you would never admit it out loud and he had asked you to dance. You had said yes of course and allowed him to lead you out to the dance floor to join the other couples. He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you close to him, and in those moments you felt kind of like you were floating.
But of course you had to come back down to the ground.
The night had ended, Adam and Joan being the first to leave their own reception, nearly stripping each other on the way to their limo. Joan had blamed it on mass consumption of wine, but you hadn't fully believed her. You remember him saying that it would be a miracle if they managed to make it to their hotel fully clothed. Kevin had asked if the two of you wanted a ride home, though he didn't sound like he expected you to say yes. And you hadn't. You liked walking home with him, even in the rain. It reminded you of tenth grade, your first 'official' kiss with him. It was times like those you felt like such a girl. When he had suggested making a quick stop by the park, you had been confused. Here you were all dressed up in the pouring rain, just wanting to get back to your apartment, change into something warm and crawl under the covers of your bed and he wanted to stop at the park? You agreed, figuring that there must have been some reason for his temporary insanity. And there had been a reason. He had taken your hands and somehow you had just known. You knew he was leaving you. He told you about some big scientific breakthrough. In Europe. He said he wanted you to come with him. You were dumbfounded. You told him that you couldn't just pick up and move to another continent. You're life was here, in Maryland. You had kissed him, told him you loved him and broken up with him, heading in the direction of your apartment as fast as you could in heels as the rain began to pour down around you.
And now he was there. Leaning against a tree looking at you, his blue eyes burning holes through you. You figured Joan had called him. It was the logical explination. But how he got here didn't matter. What matter was that he was here. And you needed him. You walked across the ground towards where he was standing, passed a bunch of strangers. You had no idea who they were or why they were at your mothers funeral. Maybe they had been her drinking buddies. It wouldn't surprise you. When you reached him, he didn't say 'sorry', he didn't ask you how you were holding up, he just reached for you and pulled you into a hug. He understood.