Point of Retreat

absolutely no responsibilities or life experiences tying us together. Now tell me, if all that was our current reality, what is it about me that you love? Why would you want to be with me?”
     
    “This is ridiculous,” I mutter. “That’s not our reality, Lake. Maybe some of those things are why we’re in love. What’s wrong with that? Why would it matter? Love is love.”
     
    She scoots closer to me on the couch and takes my hands in hers, looking me straight in the eyes. “It matters, Will. It matters because five or ten years from now, those external factors aren’t going to be at play in our relationship anymore. It’ll just be you and me. My biggest fear is that you’ll wake up one day and realize all the reasons you’re in love with me are gone. Kel and Caulder won’t be here to depend on either of us. Our parent’s will be a fleeting memory. We’ll both have careers that could support us individually. If these are the reasons you love me, there won’t be anything left to hold you to me other than your conscience. And knowing you, you would live with it internally because you’re too good of a person to break my heart. I don’t want to be the reason you end up with regrets.”
     
    She stands up and puts her jacket back on. I start to protest everything she says but as soon as I open my mouth she interrupts me. “Don’t,” she says with a serious look on her face. “I want you to think about this before you object. I don’t care if it takes you days or weeks or months. I don’t want to hear from you again until you can be completely real with me and leave my feelings for you out of your decision. You owe this to me, Will. You owe it to me to make sure we aren’t about to live a life together that someday you’ll regret.”
     
    She walks out the door and calmly closes it behind her.
     
    Months? Did she just say she didn’t care if it takes months?
     
    She did. She said months.
     
    My god, everything she said makes sense. She’s completely wrong, but it makes sense. I get it. I can see why she’s questioning everything. I can see why she doubts me now.
     
    Half an hour goes by before I even so much as move a muscle. I’m completely lost in thought. When I finally break free from the trance I’m in, I come to just one conclusion. My grandmother is right. Lake needs me to show her why I love her.
     
    I start to formulate a plan when I decide to grab inspiration out of the jar first. I unfold the star and read it.
     
    “ Life’s hard. It’s even harder when you’re stupid.”
― John Wayne
     
    I sigh. I miss Julia’s sense of humor.
     

 
     
     
     
     
    Tuesday, January 24 th , 2012
     
     
     
     
     
    The heart of a man
    is no heart at all
    If his heart isn’t loved by a woman.
     
     
    The heart of a woman
    is no heart at all
    If her heart isn’t loving a man.
     
     
    But the heart of a man and a woman in love
    Can be worse than not having a heart
    Because at least if you have no heart at all
    It can’t die when it breaks apart.

 
     
     
    Chapter Ten
     
     
     
     
    It’s Tuesday and so far I’ve spent the majority of the day studying. Only a portion of it has been spent being paranoid. Paranoid that someone’s going to see me sneaking into Lake’s house. Once inside, I search around for everything I need and quickly head back out the front door before everyone gets home from school. I throw my satchel over my shoulder and bend down to hide Lake's key back under the pot.
     
    “What are you doing?!”
     
    I jump back and nearly trip over the concrete patio rise. I control my balance on the support beam and look up. Sherry is standing in Lake’s driveway with her hands on her hips. I quickly try to come up with an excuse as to why I’m sneaking out of Lake's house.
     
    “I…I was just…”
     
    “I’m kidding,” she laughs, walking toward me.
     
    I shoot her a dirty look for almost giving me a heart attack and turn back around to push the pot back into its original position. “I needed some things out of her house,” I say, without going into detail. “What’s up?”
     
    “Not much,” she says. She has a shovel in her hands and I glance behind her to see part of Lake’s sidewalk cleared. “I’m just wasting time…waiting on my husband to get home. We've got errands to run.”
     
    I cock my head at her. “You have a husband?” I ask with a little too much fervor. I don’t mean to sound surprised, but I am. I’ve never seen