~Now that I am back in my hometown, dealing with the unfinished business and abandonment of the most important relationship I ever had, I realize what I have to face head on~

"Hi," Of course, he sounds distracted.

"I haven't heard from you in a while," I state.

"Been super backed up at work. I hired a couple new people and they're fucking everything up," My fiancé grunts in frustration.

"Sorry to hear that."

"I've gotta go, need to finish this email," Trying to dismiss this, typical.

"Can we please talk? I haven't spoken to you in weeks."

"I'm sorry, but I have a lot of responsibility that falls on me," Lance replies.

"I understand that, but you really don't seem to care that it has been affecting our relationship," Well, I did not think I would be heading this direction on the conversation path first.

"That's not true," He huffs.

"It's painfully true. I understand that work is important, but I've been feeling like your number two lately," I should have just said the past year and longer, you know, tell him the truth.

"Kyle, I devote every ounce of myself into my work because I care about it and want to follow this career path for the rest of my life. I'm sorry if you don't understand that."

I have never been more furious and annoyed in my entire life, this is saying a lot from somebody who hung around Eric Cartman as a kid, "Do you fucking hear yourself?"

"What? What is the problem?" Lance asks, sounding curious.

"I'll let you get back to your work since I know the company will completely fall to pieces if you don't, but answer this before you go, do you still want me to be your husband?"

"I don't know what makes you feel the need to ask me that. My secretary is calling, I gotta go," I do not even receive the chance to say goodbye.

I did not plan for the call to go that way, but I guess I just felt the need to get some things off my chest. I have been putting up with this bullshit for too damn long. If this is how romantic relationships are supposed to go, then I do not want one. My fiancé was not like this when I met him. He was devoted to his work, sure, but certainly not like this. The farther he got in his career, the father he got away from me. I can hardly reach him by phone. I cannot reach his attention, physically or verbally. I have become his number two. Is that too dramatic-sounding?

Maybe I am just asking for too much. The first serious relationship I have ever been in and I am given false hope. Did I deserve this? What I wonder is why he is choosing to make his work the number one priority instead of the person he plans on spending the rest of his life with, if he even still plans on that. From the looks of it, I do not think it is going to happen. If I do not feel the connection, and truly never did, it makes me wonder if he does or ever did. Lance gave me reason to believe I was going to live a happy life with him, so since I wanted a distraction from dwelling on the fact that I would never get to have the person I actually love, I ignored my true feelings and took that giant leap of faith. Now that I think about it, it was clearly the wrong choice. I leave Wendy's bedroom with what I know is a very glum look formed in my lips. She notices and stands up from the couch. She senses my negative emotions.

"He was busy," I start with.

"Are you kidding me? What happened?" Wendy exclaims.

"He tried to say he had to go but I asked if we could talk and said we haven't spoken in weeks, he went on to say he has lots of responsibility to take care of. I ended with asking him if he still wanted me to be his husband."

"Did he answer?"

"He said he didn't know what made me feel the need to ask that, then he said his secretary was calling and hung up," I plop myself down on the couch, sighing deeply as I cover my face and lean back.

"You're more important than some secretary," Wendy says and then placed herself next to me.

"Am I wrong for wanting attention from someone who is supposed to be my future life partner?"

"Kyle, you know you deserve attention. He is the one who proposed, he is the one who took that step forward, no one forced him to. I have no idea why he won't make time for you, but I can promise that you do not deserve one second of his nonsense," My best friend tells me.

"Thank you," I uncover my face, "I don't know what else to do. I feel like trying to talk to him is pointless."

"What I suggest is focusing on your new job and your studies. Just do your own thing for right now, okay? You've got to take care of yourself first."

"Do you know how good of a friend you are?" I ask Wendy.

"A little," She smiles.

After that talk with Wendy, I know I should really take her advice and apply it to my life right now. My job and my studies are my key priority. I would have Lance be my key priority, but with the way things have been, how am I supposed to? I cannot let myself fall behind in my classes because that will just create more stress that I am clearly not in the market for. If Lance does not want to make time to speak with me, even though I really need to talk to him, then that is his choice. There is not anything I can do really when we are in different states and both have a lot going on. He of course has a lot going on since he is Mr. Responsibility. I wonder how he will be able to marry me when he is already married to his work. He cannot be married to the both of us obviously, he will have to decide. In my opinion, I think he already has. Hope they have a very delightful life together.

I am sitting at Wendy's dining table, thinking of what the hell I am going to do. She is in the other room on a video call with one of her friends. I need to find a place to stay, and in less than forty eight hours. This is not Wendy's fault obviously, but I really did not need another thing added to my plate right now. I would start paying rent, but that is not an option due to the lease Wendy signed. I decide to try getting an assignment or two done before I decide on calling it a night. Something needs to pull my mind off the topic of finding a place to stay. The particular assignment I start with requires citations since it is part of a project. Just as I go to find the first source for my topic, I hear my phone vibrate against the wood of the table. It is a Colorado area code. Nobody from Colorado has my phone number except Wendy and my family.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Kyle."

I recognize the voice, "Stan?"

"Is it a bad time?" He asks kindly.

"Just working on an assignment. How'd you get my number?" I am very curious.

"Wendy. She said you told her it was okay," That's right, I forgot I had said to her it would be okay if he had it now that I am able to talk to him without completely freezing up.

"Yeah, it's okay. So...what's up?"

"Wendy told me her bitch of an apartment manager found out you were staying there."

  I sigh into the phone, "Yeah, it sucks."

"Um...I don't know if you'd be cool with it, but you could stay here if you want. My apartment manager wouldn't really care if he found out, he's a pretty cool guy."

I...how do I even...he just told me...what the fuck, "You...you don't have to do that."

"I really don't mind. You don't have to, I just wanted to let you know that you're welcome to stay here," His sweet voice makes me feel less tense.

"Would you want me to help you with rent? I can pitch in for-"

"No, no no. You don't have to do that. I got it covered. Also, I looked up where the university is and I'm actually a little closer than Wendy is, so you would have a shorter drive," Well, that was generous of him.

"I mean...if you really don't mind..." I start to say.

"Not at all. You can stay for as long as you need."

"Okay."

"Okay?" I can hear his smile form.

"Yes, um...when should I come over?" I question Stan, trying to keep the nervousness from showing in my voice.

He answers, "Whenever. I have an extra key I'll give you since we may not always get home around the same time. My shifts vary."

"I really appreciate this. Thank you."

"Not a problem. Just shoot me a text when you plan on coming," Stan tells me.

I answer back, "I will."

"I guess I'll see you soon then," He says into the phone.

"Yeah, see you soon," I hang up due to my anxiety rising inside me like a fire.

So I am now going to be staying with the person I have been avoiding for the last few years of my life? I left South Park to save myself the heartbreak, the rejection, hearing the words of getting shot down from this person. Another thing, I was too afraid to tell him I am gay. I was not sure how he would react. Stan would not have made fun of me back then, but I did not know if he would treat me different or become distant towards me. That was what I was afraid of, him becoming distant, so my solution was to be the distant one instead. That might sound kind of dumb and a little hypocritical. Honestly, I sometimes wonder if anyone knew I was gay. I never told anyone other than my parents. Wendy was the only other person beside my parents that I came out to, which was much later in life.

A very small part of me wants to tell Stan about everything, everything and every little detail of it. There are larger parts of me that want to keep my personal business to myself and within the few close people I have told. Not that I do not trust the person I once called my best friend, I just do not want to deal with the aftermath, which I am confident will not be positive. Hopefully, even though it might be hard, one day I will be able to come out to Stan, reveal more than just my sexuality. If that day never comes, then I will live with my feelings till the day I die and that will be that.

I hear Wendy leaving her bedroom, "I was going to make breakfast for dinner, does that sound good?"

I nod, "Sure."

"Are you working on something? I can wait to cook," Wendy stops when she gets into the kitchen.

"I am but I can take a break to eat," I shut my laptop lid and take myself into Wendy's kitchen to help prepare the food.

"So, I know we do not have much time to find a place for you to stay, but I was thinking about your options. What if you stay in a room at the university? You could tell them about your situation and see if they'll consider," Wendy gets out eggs and milk from the refrigerator.

"Stan offered for me to stay at his place," I blurt out.

Wendy stops and looks at me, "Really?"

I nod, "He called and said it would be okay."

"Are you going to stay there?" Wendy wonders.

"Yeah."

"Are you going to be okay?"

I can tell she is just looking out for me and my feelings, "I'll be okay. My anxiety has been through the roof lately, but the couple times I have been with him I always find myself pretty happy."

"That's good to hear. I know he is really happy to see you," Wendy's smile grows as I find myself smiling with her.

I stop smiling for a moment, "Do you think it's wrong?"

"What?"

I answer after many seconds, "Staying with someone I kissed who isn't my fiancé."

"Kyle," Wendy says looking at me.

"Don't get me wrong, I feel super shitty about it, I just, I didn't know how to get the words out. I know that's not an excuse but-"

Wendy looks me in the eyes, "That's what love does to you, makes you do stupid things."

"It was wrong. No matter how much of a distant, ignorant asshole that workaholic is..." I start mumbling in frustration under my breath after saying this.

"Hey, hey. Kyle, look at me," Wendy grabs my shoulders.

When I lift my eyes up and they meet with hers, she begins, "I'm not saying what you did was right. I'm glad you're aware that it was wrong. I have sat with you till dawn countless times talking about Stan. I have never seen someone more in love in my life. Up to this point, I think I can safely say that you are having second thoughts on marrying Lance."

I just continue looking down at the kitchen tiled floor, "I am."

"I know you've been having a hard time contacting him, but what I think you should do is start trying to reach out every day, if he does answer, let him know you have something very important to say, then let it out."

"He doesn't let me, he shuts me down and tells me he is too busy."

"Interrupt him if you have to. You don't deserve his ignorance or silence," Wendy provides me with advice like she always does, she always looks out for me and I try to do the same when she is struggling with something on her end.

I do not know what the fuck made me think I should marry someone I do not love. I mean, I do, I wanted a distraction. As one can tell, I make pretty fucked up decisions. One may say it is because I am too scared to hear the truth or I am just a little pussy who cannot handle rejection. Now that I am back in my hometown, dealing with the unfinished business and abandonment of the most important relationship I ever had, I realize what I have to face head on. Continuing with our conversation, Wendy and I dig in to thick slices of cinnamon french toast and scrambled eggs. The entire meal I am thinking of calling Lance after dinner. Even though I just tried speaking to him earlier, he needs to hear my thoughts, even if I can only leave a voicemail. I let Wendy know I will help with dishes right after I phone my fiancé. She tells me she will get started.

Six rings later and I am sent to voicemail, "Hi, it's me. Listen, there's something I need to talk to you about. I would rather do it in person, but since we can't, could you please call me back at the earliest opportunity? I would appreciate it. It's important. Okay, goodnight."

My words have been sent, he just needs to make the time to listen to them. That is asking too much I am sure. It is now Sunday night, I am all packed for my temporary residence. Who knows how long I will be staying with Stan? I do not have a clue. I have just arrived. When I pull into an empty parking spot near his building, he is walking towards my rental car. He is dressed in a red and gray hoodie, the red on his sleeves and the gray on the shirt area, and black sweatpants. I step out of the vehicle, opening the backseat doors to retrieve my large suitcase and few other bags. When I set my suitcase on the pavement next to me, Stan ejects the long handle out and holds it.

"You know you don't have to," I say to him.

"I want to."

"All right, Thank you," I thank him while grabbing the last bag.

"Here let me take something else," Stan holds out a hand.

"It's okay, I can-"

"C'mon, Kyle. They look heavy," Stan insists.

I hand him one of my bags full of clothes, "Thanks."

We start to head inside the apartment when Stan asks me, "Have you eaten yet?"

"Not since lunch."

"I've got chicken noodle soup in the crockpot, found a recipe I wanted to try out."

"Didn't know you got into cooking," I say following him up the stairs of his building.

"Eh, I'm not way into it, I try new stuff here and there," Stan responds, opening up the front door and wheeling my suitcase inside.

I set my bags down where he has placed my suitcase. The apartment has a great homemade chicken noodle soup aroma. Even though Stan said he was not too into cooking, it does smell really good in here, seems like he did a decent job. Looks like he picked up a little bit, the living room appears to be clean and organized. We go back and forth with small talk for a little while before trying the chicken noodle soup. Damn, this is good. It is silent at the table so that obviously means it is very good. Lance is a good cook, one of his good qualities. I am still hoping he will give me a call back so we can talk. Even after losing so much hope, I still hang onto the very little amount I have left.

Stan looks up from his bowl, "You like it?"

"Yeah, it's great," I nod, keeping my eyes down on my soup.

"I decided on a slow cook recipe, guess it really makes a difference," Stan explains.

"Mhm."

He lets go of his spoon and lets it rest in the bowl, "Is everything all right?"

I guess he senses my distracted tone, "Yeah. Why wouldn't it be?"

"Just seems like something is on your mind," Stan comments.

"Something is always on my mind," I reply truthfully.

"Anything you wanna talk about?"

I find myself not answering right away, it takes me a few seconds to get something out, "Maybe later."

"Okay."

The rest of the meal is pretty quiet to say the least. I do want to talk to Stan, I want to talk to him about a lot of things, but like I have said I just do not know where I would start. Hopefully, there will be a time where I can just get it all out in the open. I have left someone very confused and hurt these last few years, this person deserves answers, answers of some kind. My conscience has been giving me little pushes here and there. It has pushed me way out of my comfort zone for sure. That is probably a good thing in this case. It was despicable for me to leave things with Stan the way I did. He never deserved that. During my stay here, I am wishing to have the guts to tell him more than what I have led him to believe.