mistersatan

I sat on the edge of the bed and smoked a cigarette in the dark. She laid behind me and opened the window, so we both could have one. Just your typical post-coitus American youth ritual smoke. I sat there, naked in the dark, and waited for her to speak.

See, the feeling had been growing for some time now- we were nearing the end of the relationship. I didn't know it at the time, but that's what it was- this unnamable anxiety that would descend upon me whenever we would spend "quiet time" together, as she called it. Basically, I just didn't want to admit to myself- we were done. It didn't help that she was a psychic, and could see these things. When I asked her how long we would end up together, she said, "A while." Well, that could mean a few different things.

Apparently to her, it meant five months, three days.

Yes, she was psychic. Or still is, I should say. I didn't believe it at first, but she proved it to me one night after we met up again. Yes, we still talk. Yes, we're "good friends". No, I'm not your typical dick of an ex-boyfriend. Yes, I only want good things for her. Which, apparently, didn't include me. It sucked- it was like we were ALMOST meant for each other. We loved a lot of the same things. We had about a thousand "similar interests", as Cosmo put it. See, with her being psychic, before we started dating, she had to check our compatibility with astrological charts. According to the stars, we were perfect complements for each other. And, in a lot of ways, we were.

But not all of them.

In high school, we were the best of friends- we were inseperable. The thing was, both of us had a crush on the other, that neither of us had the guts to say. Years later, when we hooked up again and found out, we decided to go for it. The thing that still bugs me, is-

If she's psychic, why would she go out with me if she knew we were gonna break up?

Oh, I know the obvious answers- she was sent back into my life to teach me about love, growing up, etc.

Doesn't mean it hurts any less.