Moving On

Moving day. What the hell was I thinking? Maybe helping him pack wasn’t such a good idea after all. I had thought it might be good for me, you know, help me come to terms with losing my best friend. But instead of helping, it hurt like hell. It was like watching my life being packed away in boxes and the sight broke my heart.

He’d been packing for the better part of two weeks already, but he’d still needed clothes and other items to live before he actually moved so all that last minute stuff was getting packed now to be picked up later by the moving truck.

This was suppose to be a happy day for him, excitement warring with uncertainty…and yet he looked as though he’d been gelded. I wasn’t used to seeing such an expression on his stern face and the sight of it made my stomach sour. Had I missed something?

I hear a muffled shout from the other room and Max comes scampering out of the kitchen looking scandalized quickly followed by a rather disgruntled looking Vince. “Tell that mutt to stay out of my way before I kill myself tripping over him. Be happy he didn’t ruin breakfast while he was at it.” he growled and stormed back into the kitchen. It wasn’t the first time I’d seem him this pissed off but it normally didn’t happen so often…at least not as often as it had in the past two weeks.

It just wasn’t like him at all. I mean, just yesterday he nearly castrated poor Max when he had caught the puppy chewing on a discarded piece of plastic casing. Sure it wasn’t good for him and the casing could have been used elsewhere, but did the pup really deserve castration for it? He’d even gone off on me a couple of times, calling me out on a few of my more careless mistakes. I know I’m clumsy…but damn, the man has put up with me for over twenty years…why does he choose now to try and rip my head off for it?

Setting the silver picture frame of us as kids into the box I kneel down onto the floor and let the cowering puppy into my lap. “It’s okay Max, papa Vince is just uptight at the moment, he’s not really going to castrate you.” I murmured soothingly and ruffle his short silky fur. He gives me what I assume is a disbelieving look before he hops down and trots off towards my bedroom and his little bed. Okay so maybe Vince would castrate the little guy if he pissed him off too badly, but he wouldn’t be here long enough to try it.

Even just the thought sends an unexpected pain through my heart and I have to move away from the boxes. The moving van wouldn’t be here for another couple of hours, it could wait.

Strolling into the kitchen I spot a scrumptious looking breakfast spread out over the table and a disgruntled looking Vince bustling around looking almost adorable in his little ‘I kiss better than I cook’ apron. I’d bought it for him last spring as a gag gift but to my surprise he’d worn it…every time he cooked actually. In a way he always reminded me of a very masculine Martha Stuart.

Shaking my head slightly in amusement I approach the table and sit down, reaching for a slice of bacon and sausage. Biting into the crunchy strip draws an irritated blue gaze to me and I feel like shrinking into my seat. Swallowing my bite I set the piece of bacon down and mumble a quiet apology as he turns away and busies himself with the stack of fluffy pancakes in front of him. After a few minutes his apron comes off and he joins me at the table looking even worse than when he got up this morning. His hair is a mess, though even in disarray he manages to look neat as a pin, and he looks tired. Not excited and apprehensive like I thought he would.

“So uh…you having a house warming party?” I inquire cheerfully and he gives me the coldest looked I’d ever received in my life. My mouth snaps shut and I turn my attention to filling it with bacon sausage and pancakes. Not a bad mix…but for some reason oddly bland as the silence between us stretches.

I know I missed something now, something important. The question was, what was it?

Breakfast passes in strained silence and the only sound made was afterwards when he began rinsing off the dishes and putting them into the dishwasher. Just what had I done to piss him off so badly? Figuring that tempting him with conversation now would only spell disaster, I deposit my breakfast dishes into the sink and escape to my room. I find Max lounging in his bed, not a care in the world and certainly no worries of the irate man in the next room.

I just don’t understand it. Vince was the one leaving me why was he acting like the wounded party here? He was acting like It was my fault he was moving today and not his own doing. What the fuck?

But I can’t really bring myself to get angry with him. He was already in such a touchy mood I was afraid that if I said the wrong thing…it could end things horribly and that was the last thing I wanted to cause. But how was I supposed to get through to him and force him to tell me what was wrong before he left? The man was a brick wall for crying out loud! A very angry brick wall at that. There was just no reaching him…

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Standing outside on the front porch, I watch forlornly as the moving truck pulls away, carrying with it the one person I’d ever been able to connect to. Secretly I guess I had hoped for a sudden change of heart while his boxes were being packed away, maybe even a heartfelt apology…something. But Instead he hadn’t even said goodbye, just hopped into the truck and drove away…like he couldn’t wait to get away from me.

Maybe he hadn’t been able to wait. It would explain the bad temper the past two weeks and the nasty disposition he’d had the past couple of days. But something didn’t add up, it just wasn’t like him. Had I said or done something to offend him that made him want to leave? Or was he just finally tired of me and couldn’t find a way to tell me without hurting my feelings?

Yeah, and pigs had fairy wings and flew around proclaiming to be Tinker Bell.

Vince just didn’t care what anyone thought or whose feelings he hurt, not even over something big like this. Sure if he knew he was wrong he’d apologize…in his own way, but he’d never keep anything from me just because he thought I wouldn’t like it. So what was it then? What had I done so horribly wrong that made him want to leave?

Closing the door I slide the lock into place and turn for the living room. I pause mid-step as I glace at the key bowl out of habit and my heart drops into my stomach when I spot the spare key just sitting there. Why hadn’t he taken it with him? He’d be over here often enough to need one. Was he really intending to cut me out of his life so thoroughly?

The thought is more painful than I want to admit so instead of dwelling on it I march back into the living room and pause once more. It was so easy to imagine that he just wasn’t home from work yet, that he was going to come through that door any minute as quietly as always and start dinner.

I glance behind me at the door I know he’s not coming through, because the door is locked…and he doesn’t have his spare key. God he’s such a bastard.

Sinking into the couch I prop my feet up on the coffee table and glare at the blank TV screen as though it would yield some of the answers I had bouncing around my head. But just as expected the TV screen stays dark and unyielding and I am no closer to figuring things out than I was before. Dammit all to hell.

I am half tempted to march into the kitchen and pull out the big guns…mainly loads of chocolate and as much alcohol as I can stand, but even that thought depresses me. There wouldn’t be anyone to come home and clean up the mess I would make, no one to tell me I was overreacting. And no one to make me a cheesecake when things between us weren’t going so great. It seemed like such a silly thing to get upset over…but it wasn’t the cheesecake I was upset over was it? It was the person behind the cheesecake, the man who never could open his mouth to say the words, “I’m sorry” and actually mean them.

We’d always been there for each other, ever since we were little kids just learning to take on the world around us. We went through elementary together, middle school, high school, even college. There wasn’t a single day in our past that went by without at least talking to one another. It seemed unfair that we had to go our separate ways now. What was I going to do without him? What was I going to do without us.

I had been a big boy the past couple of weeks. I had kept my distances when it was necessary…I actually cleaned up and offered to help with dinner most nights, but most of all I hadn’t broken down and begged him to stay like I wanted to. Like I had been tempted to do on so many occasions. I was quite proud of myself to be honest…at least I had been proud of myself. Right now I just felt like kicking the shit out of myself. Why hadn’t I asked? Why didn’t I say something, anything? It would have made so much more sense than just…letting him go.

So wrapped up in my own grief I didn’t noticed Max until his cool nose touched the bare skin on my ankle where my jeans had ridden up a bit. Sad blue eyes gaze up at me and it is as if I am looking at Vince, whose gaze always seemed to pierce right through me and any act I put up. “Don’t look at me like that,” I mumbled and brush him away. He sits back and cocks his head to the side as if considering my words. “Go on, go lay down or something. Find one of my shoes to chew on, just leave me alone.” He merely stares at me, as if waiting for me to come to my senses. It was the same look Vince gave me whenever I was acting childish or throwing a fit. It was so achingly familiar that it brought tears to my eyes. Dammit I was going to miss him…

Tugging the puppy onto the couch next to me I hold him close and brush away the tears that had formed on my lashes. I was a big boy, I could handle this. I wasn’t like he was moving out of my life, just moving across town…into a house that took twice as long to get to as work, with a neighbor that reminded me of…me. Jealousy flared for a moment before I could stop it and I was left to ponder in my stunned silence. I was jealous of his new neighbor. Not just irritated or bothered, I was jealous.

Glancing down at the puppy who waited so patiently next to me I had what might have been a epiphany. Was this how Vince had felt when I bought Max? Did he think I was trying to replace him? Better question yet, had I been trying to replace him? Knowing that he was moving out and moving on…did I want to fill that space he would be leaving? Of course I did. I didn’t want to be alone…but I wasn’t trying to actually replace him, just fill his position at home. God, I should listen to myself! I couldn’t replace Vince, there wasn’t anyone in the world that could be just like him, let alone a damn dog.

And yet it was exactly how I felt about his new neighbor. I didn’t like the idea that the two were getting acquainted with one another while I wasn’t there. Vince was mine god damn it.

Now where did that come from? Vince wasn’t a piece of furniture or property to be owned, he was a living breathing person free to do as he pleases. So why…unless I thought of him as…oh shit.

A cold weight, similar to feeling of a rather large ice cube, dropped into my stomach and I was left once more trying to sort through my thoughts as I sat in stunned silence. All this time it had been in front of me and I hadn’t seen it. The two of us were more like a married couple than most married couples I knew. Had I always thought of him like that? Like a life partner instead of a friend and a roommate? It seemed so strange to look back on their relationship now and realize…that they had always been like this. He couldn’t remember a time when Vince hadn’t been there for him. No matter what was going on or what he was doing at the time, Vince would drop whatever it was and come to his side when he needed him. It was Vince who had held him when he cried over stupid relationship problems. Vince who had picked up the pieces and put him back together. But never once in their long relationship had Vince ever come to him with his problems, not once had he ever cried in his arms over a heartbreak, because there hadn’t been anyone else to break his heart. All these years and Vince never once glanced at another person, didn’t even attempt to find another relationship. He had spent his whole life taking care of me…never complaining when things go too hard, never belittling me when I cracked under the pressure of life in general. Vince had always been there for me…at every twist and turn.

God I was blind. All those relationships and the one I really wanted was standing right in front of me the whole time. I couldn’t be in another relationship, because I was already in love. And I couldn’t stand the thought of him leaving because with all of his things packed away and the boxes placed neatly into the truck…he had taken with him the one thing I would never be able to take back. My heart.

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Okay, shorter chapter this time and yes I left it in a strange spot, but you’ll forgive me once you read the next chapter I promise^^ Please Review!