“You’re a bitch.”

I hung my head low. I don’t really know how to really put it.

“ I know.”

She looked at me exasperatedly, as if repeating a useless fact. I tried looking somewhere else, some stone that’s gone astray in the pavement, but I felt much more foolish. Here I was, in my boxers, wearing a gray shirt and my favourite plaid long sleeves. I was a carryover of the whole day’s toll. I was wasted without effort. And I was standing in front of her and getting a beating.

“You’re snarky, you’re selfish, and you’re horribly painful with your mood swings. You’re a jerk. You’re very grumpy. You’re very unpredictable. You want me to see you, and here I am, and you wouldn’t do anything other than stare at me or just stay silent. You wouldn’t even tell me what’s wrong. And I’m here, wondering why I’m here when you’re being an ass. Just. What. The. Hell. Do. You. Want. Me. To. Do?!” She folded her arms on her chest, and I stood there, just stood there. There’s nothing else I could do.

“Stay.”

She looked at me like I just said the most inapplicable word there is.

“What?”

I took a deep breath.

“One day. One day I’ll realize that I’m not that special. That the world would not put up with me and my shortcomings. That I’m foolish beyond reason. But I’m this. And a whole lot of other bad and weird things. I’m moody and bitchy and I would demand of things that I wouldn’t even know why I would and why I did. But please. I’m not…asking you to put up with it. I’m asking you to…stay.”

She softened a bit. But there was defensiveness.

“Isn’t that the same thing?”

“What do you mean?”

“Putting up with it? And staying?”

“No. You don’t have to do anything. Just stay with me.”

“That’s awfully hard, you know.”

“I know.”

She stayed silent. I think at this point, she was simply tired of arguing. We don’t argue much. I think that’s what set it off.

“Please.”

“Alexis, if you want me to stay, give me a reason to. Because this,” she motioned to an unseen lot of emotional baggage “is just hard to understand.”

“I know.” I bit on my lip. How do I make her understand? “But these are my troubles. I’m not asking you to be a part of them. I just…want you to stay.”

“But don’t you want me to help you with that? Every time I’m here you bitch about things in a detached manner but you don’t tell me things. Make me a part of your world, Alexis. When I’m here, you just either bitch or you stare.”

“That’s the point.” I was desperate. “They…become meaningless and much more bearable when you’re around. You make things beautiful. You’re enough.”

And she looks at me, torn between wanting to sigh and bash my head. But she nods.

And that was enough.