“I was scared, alright?!”
“Scared of what, for god’s sake?!”
“Scared of you. Scared of the possibility. Scared of it. Of us. In a world where suffering is the norm and sadness is mostly present, I found you, a beacon you were so bright. And it’s bloody scary.”
“This world is not how you describe it. It has beauty and peace and happiness. I admit there are dark bits but why dwell on those?”
“You sound like a self-help book.”
“Don’t be condescending. First, because it doesn’t become you, and second because you couldn’t possibly know since you’ve never actually read one.”
“That’s fair, I deserve that.”
“I’m always fair.”
“I’m still cross at you.”
“What on earth for?!”
“Because. You scare me with your assertiveness. Your positive outlook on life and it’s possibilities.”
“Are you angry or scared?”
“I can’t be both?”
“Let me reformulate, then. What are you more, angry or scared?”
“Scared. You know that.”
“You ran for the hills.”
“Yes, I do that. You wanted to meet and I could tell I would fall for you. So I ran.”
“But you’re here now.”
“Aye, well, I couldn’t stop thinking about you, could I? You were everywhere.”
“I… felt the same.”
“You seem cross too.”
“No. I’m just… tired. Life is complicated enough for us to complicate it further.”
“Wait. Before you said life is all happy and smiles.”
“I maintain that. It doesn’t mean I don’t have worries or overthink things. I missed you, fuck.”
“Sorry I ran.”
“Fuck your sorrys, you know I hate it when you apologise and you shouldn’t.”
“Right. Sorry.”
“…”
“Fuck!”
“Are you going to keep apologising?”
“Who the fuck knows?”
“Are you going to run again?”
“I am resolving myself not to. At least, not for now and not from you.”
“Christ that’s good news.”