~Inside, very far within myself, I have a small amount of confidence that is still working on coming out of the shadows, it is a gradual process. I could always test the waters, right now. The test begins as I walk up to him~

Is this wine actually getting to my head? This is totally inappropriate; telling Lance how I feel over the phone while I am in Stan's home. Those are two issues with my on-the-spot decision just now. I am not ignoring the fact that I need to talk to my fiancé, but right now may not be a great time. The problem with me taking a rain check on this is that it is going to be some time before I will see Lance in person again. When I stepped into Stan's bathroom a moment ago, I planned to call Lance and tell him everything I have been feeling for a tremendous amount of time now. I thought about my actions before actually putting them in motion. Right now, I should just go back out there, have a conversation with a person who means a great deal to me, and set aside time for this later. Right here, right now, is just not the time.

Stan notices me exiting the bathroom, "Quick phone call," He comments.

"Uh, yeah. I'll just call later."

"You all right? Seems to be a lot on your mind," Stan observes.

"How can you tell?" I sigh because he is right, way too right.

"Well, we used to be best friends. I was always able to tell if something was off with you," Stan takes a long sip from his glass.

"Guess that trait never went away," I say to him.

"Look, I've noticed it's a tough topic, but can you please give me an explanation for why you stopped talking to me?" It caught me so off guard, it knocked me off my feet mentally.

I do not say anything for the first few seconds, I finally bring myself to say something, "I don't really know how to put it."

"What do you mean?"

"I guess I don't really know how to put it into words," I look down because looking at him will only make me lose it.

My name comes out of his mouth, "Kyle."

"I'm sorry."

"You're sorry?" He questions with a hint of anger.

"I never meant to upset you," This statement is honest, I was only trying to protect myself from getting hurt, but it backfired and hurt someone else.

"How did you think it was going to make me feel?" Stan wonders.

"I was trying to...I just wanted..." I can't, I can't say it.

"What? What, Kyle?"

"You...you wouldn't understand," I say.

"Then help me understand! Please!" He stands up off the couch and looks down at me.

I feel small with him standing in front of me, "Stan."

"Did I do something wrong? Did I do something to piss you off at the time?" His voice sounds louder, but it might just feel louder coming through my ears because honestly, I am a little intimidated right now.

"No, of course not," I calmly reply.

"Did it ever occur to you how devastated I would be when you left and didn't even say goodbye? It broke something inside me. Whatever the fuck it was is still healing," He downs the last of the wine and storms off into the kitchen.

I am sitting here mortified. Knowing I hurt him makes me feel like the shittiest person in the world. I put up a wall so I would not get hurt from what I truly felt, from what I still feel to this day. Feeling horrible would be the sugared down version of how I really feel. The way I actually feel about ghosting my best friend, there is not a word in the dictionary that can sum it up. I do not blame him, he was never supposed to be the one to get hurt, nobody was supposed to get hurt, that was my entire thought process when I made the decision to break ties with him. At the time, I was not thinking clearly. I was in this mindset of putting myself and my emotions first. There are many other ways I could have went about this, but I chose the worse way. Maybe I should have just fucking told him.

"Stan," I remain on the couch.

He rounds the corner from the kitchen and comes into view, his silence says it all. Maybe I should just leave. He probably does not want to continue talking to me, at least not right in this moment. Stan must have put his glass in the sink, because he has not returned with another round of wine. I want to fix this, I just do not know how. I have a painful feeling that there is nothing for me to do that will make him see how awful I feel. He wants the truth, but I cannot give it to him. It will ruin everything. It will only land me with a broken heart, which is what I prevented with leaving my hometown for good. I have to do something, he deserves some kind of action from me right now.

"I need you to know that I don't agree with how I went about things. I see now how cruel it was to do what I did. If I could go back and go about it differently, I would."

"Why did you have to do anything at all? What was the problem?" He asks.

"It's complicated-"

"Oh my god, will you stop saying that, please? You're an adult, I'm an adult, look me in my face and tell me why you did what you did to me," His eyes tell me how this has effected him, I did not expect him to say that, though.

"I can't."

He rubs his hands over his face in frustration, "Why do both you and Wendy respond to me asking about this like I'm not supposed to know?"

"When I vented to her the first time I asked her not to say anything," I answered.

"Jesus Christ this is fucked up," Stan pinches the bridge of his nose, presenting more of his frustration to me.

That familiar, overwhelming, panicky feeling washes over me, "Look, I think I just need to go."

"Are you fucking kidding me? Running off again to avoid the problem? Is this your new thing?"

I spun around so I was not facing his front door anymore. When he said that, the panicky feeling flew away immediately and brought in this unexpected anger, "I was just trying to look out for myself. I turned to a friend for help when I felt lost, I didn't mean to, but I did. I'm sorry that friend wasn't you, but you were the one I would never be able to tell this to."

"For what goddamn reason, Kyle? Did I hurt you or something?" His voice has definitely increased in volume.

"No! I just can't tell you, okay? I can't."

"Then show me. If you can't tell me, find a way to show me."

Show him, how am I supposed to...no. There is no way my emotions will be able to handle pulling a stunt like that. There is no way in hell I have the courage to do that. He would push me away instantly. He would immediately think I am sick and need therapy. How would I show him any other way? Right now, I do not know how I would show him what type of feeling has lived inside me for several years. Stan Marsh would never exchange another word with me for the rest of time. If I walk out the door right now, he will probably never speak to me again. So there is always that to consider. If I do it, all of what I have said is a possibility.

Telling him this just feels like it would be a string of words in another language. I have imagined how I would tell Stan the reason I broke off contact with him. The real reason is safe with me and safe with Wendy. It can either stay that way, or something else could happen, unfortunately I do not know what that something else could be. He does deserve to know why he was ignored, I am not denying that at all. I fully understand the reason why he is so hurt over all this. This whole time, I have felt as if telling him would give him an extra bag of luggage that is over the weight limit. Inside, very far within myself, I have a small amount of confidence that is still working on coming out of the shadows, it is a gradual process. I could always test the waters, right now. The test begins as I walk up to him.

My hands reach for the sides of his face and it happens. Instead of telling him, I show him, just like he suggested. It is like an awaited arrival, the awaited arrival of the answer Stan has been looking for. Well, here it is. I grew a pair and did something risky. Is this easier than telling him? Who knows. All I know is that...I have not been out of my thought bubble since I planted my lips on his. I remove myself from the bubble and realize something, his hands are resting on my lower back and his lips are not rejecting mine. What I need after this is feedback, any kind of it. I let go of his face, his lips, and step back ever so slightly.

Stan helps hold our gaze until finally saying something after many seconds, "Well, that's one way to show me."

His response gives me these chills I have never felt in my life; they are not bad chills, they are...better than good. I pan my eyes down to my feet. It almost feels like I can not feel them. I have let go of my secret to the person the secret is about. Something that is giving me ease is that his response does not sound mad or disgusted, he just looks taken aback by my actions. I must have really caught him off guard. My ears craves for what he is currently thinking. I watch him look down at his own feet. His eyes do not seem interested in looking down because very soon after I can feel them on me.

"You could have just done that, would have saved you the hassle of moving."

"Stan," I close my eyes, sigh, and rub my forehead.

Stan asks, "Was that easier than telling me?"

"I don't know," Making eye contact with him seems impossible.

"Do you still want to leave?" Stan wonders.

"Do you want me to leave?" That is what I am very curious about.

"You can stay the night if you want, that wine packs a punch. The couch folds out into a bed, pretty comfy," Stan replies.

"That's nice of you, but I don't have any pajamas," I tell him, trying to make eye contact with him, I am just a little nervous.

"I'll grab you a t-shirt and some pants, I can let Wendy know for you."

"Why are you being nice to me? I don't deserve it," I ask him because I know I don't deserve his kindness after everything I put him through.

"I still want to talk more, but I got something out of you, even if it wasn't words," Stan flashes me a quick smile that brings back those chills.

Did Stan not mind me kissing him? It was so without-a-warning that I figured I would get pushed away immediately. Why is he so fine with it? Maybe he's not, maybe he is just acting fine for right now because of the slight buzz from the wine. In the morning, this will all seem like a bizarre dream to him, and when he comes to find out it really happened, he will want nothing to do with me ever again. Damn, I need some rest. Stan is being extremely nice letting me crash here. I only had one glass of wine, but I still prefer not to drive. This may not sound like a great idea to someone who knows about me and my feelings, which would only be Wendy. I wonder what she will think of all this when I tell her.

Stan
Sleep feels damn near impossible right now. The minute my head hit the pillow, my brain alerted me I would not be getting much sleep tonight. I felt bad doing this, but I texted Wendy about twenty minutes ago, asking her to come over. It is really late, just a little after two o'clock in the morning, but I need to talk to someone, and it cannot be Kyle obviously. I will have to be quiet when I go open the door for Wendy. She is a great friend, she has always been here for me even after we broke up. I do not know if she will be surprised when I tell her what happened, or maybe confused? I know I am. Kyle has been avoiding my presence for the last couple years, now he does this. If I was not desperately searching for answers then, I am hunting for them like a detective now.

Wendy arrives and texts me from outside my apartment door, I open the door and there she is in her coat and purple pajama bottoms, "Hi."

I motion for her to come inside. She steps in, seeing Kyle asleep on my couch. He looks peaceful, so I do not want him to wake up. Wendy does her best to shut the door quietly. We carefully make our way to my bedroom, so we do not make too much noise. I allow Wendy to go in first and then follow behind her. She takes a seat on my bed as I shut the door. I just need to get some things off my chest, letting everything run on a never-ending track in my mind is not good therapy. Going to one of the guys about this? Eh, I mean I could, but Wendy has always been my go-to person and vice versa.

Once I take a seat, Wendy asks, "Is everything all right?"

"I dunno," I say.

"Is something bothering you?" She wonders out loud.

"I guess it's not really bothering me, it's just making my mind go a hundred thousand miles a minute," I answer honestly.

"Something to do with Kyle?"

I look to my right where Wendy waits for an answer , "How'd you know?"

"He's asleep on your couch, Stan. You two haven't spoken since senior year of high school and now he's back."

I sigh and just pull it right from my memory, "He kissed me."

Wendy's eyebrows raise, that tells me that she is as shocked as I am, "When?"

"We had some wine and got to talking. I just wanted to know why he left and stopped talking to me. I asked him this that night I ran into you guys at the bar and we went to the abandoned mall. His answer has been that it's complicated and he can't tell me. I'm getting tired of hearing that, I was pissed off and finally just asked for him to find a way to show me since telling me has been too hard. That's when he did it," As I explain what happened hours ago, Wendy looks at me, indicating she is listening carefully.

"What did you do?" She asks.

"I...he grabbed me and I...guess I kind of grabbed him back."

"Really?"

"Felt like like a reflex almost," I tell Wendy.

"Did you talk about it after?" Wendy questions me.

"Not really, I just said that was one way he could show me," I smile a little, "Then I offered for him to crash here."

Wendy's grin forms out of the corner of my eye, "I saw that smile."

"I wanted to talk about it, but I didn't want to overwhelm him."

"Maybe try again when he wakes up?" Wendy suggests.

Something suddenly occurs to me, "Wendy."

"What?"

"Do you think he was just tipsy from the wine?"

"How much did you guys have?"

I answer truthfully, "Not too much."

"Then I'm sure he was in the right mind to know what he was doing. Believe me, I'm as shocked as you are," Wendy says to me.

"It really fucked with my head, though. He ghosts me for the last few years then returns home and kisses me? While he's engaged?" I am now off my bed standing up, beginning to pace.

"Shhh." I guess I got a little loud because Wendy had her finger to her lips, "I know, it's a shock. Just please talk to him after you both get some rest. He needs to know how you're feeling. You will probably feel better after you do," Wendy releases some advice for me.

"I know I will, I just want to know what the hell is going on, is that so wrong?"

"No, I know you've been hoping on an answer," Wendy gives me a sympathetic look.

"I probably won't get any damn rest," I remark.

"Listen, this has been a long time coming. I know he wants to let it out, but he's just afraid to. I'm hoping he can just get it all out on the table with you," Wendy says to me.

"Me too. I'll let you get back to sleep, you good to drive home? Don't want you to fall asleep at the wheel."

"I got here safe, I'll be fine. Text me tomorrow, let me know what's going on, okay?" Wendy holds out her arms for a hug.

I immediately embrace her, "I will. Thank you."

We hug for a long time. She really is an amazing person. I can count on Wendy for anything, anything at all. She is loyal, she has been very loyal to Kyle especially with his big, bad wolf of a secret. What the fuck is it and why am I restricted from hearing it? It puzzles me so much because of how Kyle and I were the closest pair of best friends I ever saw, then this one day it completely changed and we were strangers. Our friends did not know what to make of it. They would comment on how weird it was to not see us hanging out. It was not just weird, it was straight up wrong. I try to shake off these thoughts as I walk Wendy to the front door.

"Goodnight, sleep well," Wendy whispers to me.

I whisper, "Night, you too."

I close the door, trying to make it creak as less as possible. I step over to a window where I have a clear view of my building's parking lot, Wendy walks to her car with her hands in her pockets. Once she is safe inside her car, I step away from the window. The couch is close to where I am standing; my feet lead me to it quietly. There he is, in what looks like a very deep sleep. I look at him, thinking of what he did. It had to of been the wine. Why would someone ignore their best friend out of the blue, flee their hometown, then return a few years later and kiss them? That just strikes me as really fucking odd. My eyes are starting to feel heavy, maybe I will be able to get some rest.

Venting to Wendy put some of my hectic brain activity to rest, which led to a gate opening up for sleep. Nine o'clock rolls around before I know it. The sun has voluntarily streamed in through my bedroom windows. After a big stretch, I place my slippers over my feet and head out to the kitchen. The sunlight is bright as hell out here, too. From the silence that has washed over my living room, I can tell Kyle is not awake yet. I allow my Keurig to get my cup of coffee going. The brewing must have been a little noisy because a couple minutes later, Kyle appears in the entryway to the kitchen. I do not notice due to my eyes scanning my fridge for creamer. After locating it, I turn back around.

"Morning," He greets.

"Morning. Coffee?"

"Sure, thank you."

"How was the couch?" I ask as I put another K-Cup pod into the coffee maker.

"Really comfy actually," Kyle answers.

"Good," I set his mug over by him, making sure the creamer and sugar are within his reach.

"Thanks," Kyle says as he reaches for the creamer.

The two of us end up on the couch again, mugs in hand. This time, it is a pretty much silent. I want to ask him about last night. Ever since Kyle has been back in town, I have gotten nowhere with him. I still do not know why he left and why he cut off all contact with me. Wendy understands why this bothers me, it is a reasonable thing to be bothered by. My hands place the mug on tue coffee table, since it was becoming sort of a distraction for me to talk to Kyle. He seems focused on his coffee, he has not looked up from his mug. If it was not just the wine talking last night, then I will be full of even more curiosity. There has to be an explanation for everything he has done, there has to be.

"Can I ask you something?" I start with that.

"Yeah," Kyle nods.

"What you did last night, did the wine have anything to do with it?"

"No."

"It didn't?" I ask with surprise in my voice.

"I wasn't drunk, Stan," Kyle says to my face, he looks me in the face and says this.

"I didn't think you were drunk, I just thought you may have been a little tipsy," I explain.

"I'm sorry."

"Why're your sorry?" I wonder.

"Shouldn't of done that," Now his eyes are looking away from mine.

"Kyle, I just need to know what the hell is going on. You cut off all contact with me, then here we are, a couple years later, and you do that," He covers his face with one hand as I say this.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry I did what I did. It was stupid."

I am starting to wonder if he regrets what he did last night, "You don't have to be sorry, okay? Look, I know I said to show me if you can't tell me, but I do need some kind of verbal truth here," Words are what I want to hear, need to hear.

"What I did, did it give you any kind of clue?" Kyle asks.

"I mean, I thought you were just tipsy because it's just odd for you to stop talking to me and then kiss me years later," Saying what he did sounds so raw, so unfiltered.

"Did it make you uncomfortable?"

"You breaking our friendship or kissing me?"

"Stan," He sighs, the way he says my name sounds a little sympathetic.

"You kissing me didn't make me uncomfortable, it just caught me off guard, really off guard," I reply to him.

Kyle says after another sigh, "Makes sense,"

"Am I dumb for not connecting the dots on this mystery?"

"No. That was the only clue I have given you, one I thought I never would," For someone who has avoided me for years, he seems to have found his voice, at least a little bit.

The only clue he never thought he would give me. Why do I feel like it is right in front of my damn eyes? Maybe something has kept me blind to it this whole time. Hmm, maybe Kyle's distance and silence for an ongoing period of time is the blindness. If he was not tipsy, then the only other thing I can think of is...that he might like me? Does that make me sound full of myself? This could be my next question to him. Getting him to answer something bold like this sounds like a difficult mission. Something still does not seem right, why would he get engaged if he likes me? That is why I am so fucking confused here. I can just ask anyway and then I will hopefully be one step closer to the truth.

"Do you like me?"