The lavish milestones.
The exciting adventures.
The grand celebrations.
The unforgettable choices that altered your path.
When you ask someone to define their life, they give you the fluffy version.
No one ever wants to hear about the grief, pain, or misfortune. Right?
Those cracks are what make life truly beautiful and worth living.
If you asked me about Xander Dixon five years ago, I could tell you anything you needed to know. He was my best friend, a constant presence, loyal and dependable, a highlight on each day, and a monumental landmark of my childhood.
If you asked me about him now, I would tell you he's a complete mystery. I have no idea how to define Xander because he's no longer a piece in my life puzzle. Xander removed himself without my permission but I am going to get him back.
Xander is stuck in a bleak moment that no one wants to hear about. But I do. I want to know all about his torment, heartache, and suffering. I don't want the glossy stuff. I want to know why he is trapped in the dark and cannot escape.
A loud bang on the trunk of my car causes a high-pitched scream to rush out of my throat. I also bump my head on the window and nearly have a heart attack. What the heck? I whip around in my seat and see the reason for my panic. Xander, in all his hulking glory, is glowering at me from behind my vehicle. He’s looking at me like I’m responsible for some serious crime by just sitting here. Am I supposed to get out? What does he expect me to do? He must have noticed me spinning out. I’m clearly not going anywhere, anytime soon. He can’t possibly expect me to walk home. Even though I’m a bit distracted by my mental musing, I can still make out the yell from outside. “Get in the house!” Xander growls out, accompanied by another solid pound to my trunk. He’s literally going to let me into his place? I didn’t expect that at all. Maybe this will give us an opportunity to actually talk. Opening my door takes serious effort but I manage when I throw my whole body into the action. Of course this also causes me to tumble out into the snow. Can I get a freaking break? I lay there for a moment, basking in my embarrassment, while waiting to see if Xander will offer me a hand. I don’t hear any movement so I tip my head back to make sure. Just as I figured. The butthead is still standing in the exact same spot with the scowl still firmly on his lips. I make sure to groan extra loud while awkwardly rolling over, followed by ungracefully standing up. I almost want to take a bow because this whole situation is so ridiculous. Once I’m back on two feet, I make a big production of brushing all the white fluff off my clothes. Still no reaction from the big guy. I’m seriously beginning to wonder if there is something wrong with his brain functioning. "Get in the house. I'll stay in the shack." Xander grumbles out and jerks his chin in the direction I'm assuming he plans to go. Considering the condition of the house, I was beyond concerned what shape the other building was in for him to refer to it as a shack. We might not be friends anymore but I still care about the man. "Can't we go into your house together?" I question. I'm not ashamed to admit I'm scared to be in his home alone but I'm also worried about him holed up someplace even more rundown. His response is immediate. "No." That's it. Just no. It would be a waste of breath arguing. I've quickly figured that out in the short time we've... conversed, if you could call it that. Xander turns and heads toward the forest side of his property. I quickly lose sight of him due to the weather still wreaking havoc on visibility. Just in case he is still within hearing range, I decide to give him some gratitude. “Great! Thank you so very much, Xander. You have been really helpful!” I scream out into the wind. What a jerk.
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