Carla paced back and forth in front of the window. He was coming tonight and it was time to tell him. Funny how it never bothered her much until this moment that he always had to come in through the window, never through the front door. She tried to prepare herself for the worst. He would be devastated. But if she was lucky, he would be angry enough not to argue about it and just leave.

The knock took her by surprise, as it always did, even though she was expecting him. He was carrying a bouquet of red roses and his brown eyes were so alive with excitement at seeing her again. Carla opened the window and he bounded in full of youthful energy.

Michaelangelo handed her the roses shyly. "Hope you're not getting tired of them."

Carla took them and smiled. "No, they're beautiful."

Not as beautiful as you, Mike thought, but he didn't say it. It sounded too cliché and fake, even though he meant it with all his heart.

Carla put the roses in a vase of water and turned to him with a sigh. "Mike, please sit down. I have to talk to you."

"Uh oh," Michaelangelo said with an easy smile. "Am I in trouble?" He sat down on the small couch and Carla sat beside him.

She looked up at him and then had to turn away. His eyes...damn his eyes. Why did they have to look so hopeful? So innocent and trusting? This was going to be hard enough. "Mike, I don't think...I mean...it's just..." She took a deep breath and began again. "This relationship has been really hard on me. I think...I just think we're too different for it to work."

She dared to look up at him again and his expression nearly broke her heart. It wasn't the hurt that she had been expecting or the anger she had been hoping, but instead there was a quiet understanding.

Mike scratched his head. "You're right."

Carla looked at him in surprise. "I am?"

"We are different." He chuckled a little. "I'd say that's pretty obvious. But you know, we do have some things in common."

Carla sighed and nodded. "I know we do, Mike. We like the same television, the same music." She grinned. "We both like pizza."

Michaelangelo laughed. "Now that's important. I could live with having a girlfriend who hated Buffy and pop music, but pizza, no I think that's a must." He cleared his throat and looked at her carefully. "But that's not what I meant."

"What did you mean?" Carla hated this. Why couldn't he just let it go? Why did he have to make it so much harder? The longer they held on, the more difficult it would be.

Michaelangelo looked down at his hands; the six green fingers that longed to reach out to this girl he had come to love. "I can laugh and cry. I can love and be hurt. I have hope and desires." He didn't want to push or make her feel guilty. He just needed Carla to understand. When Mike looked up, he saw the tears in her eyes. "You know, if you look inside yourself, you just might find that we're not all that different. Not where it counts anyway."
Carla took a deep, shaky breath. "You're right, Mike. But..."

"It's ok." He stood up. "I understand."

"I didn't mean to hurt you. I hope you believe that." Carla stood too, ready to force him to stay if he didn't believe her.

Michaelangelo smiled. His face was as hopeful and trusting as ever, but there was no spark in his eyes. "I do." He reached out and kissed her head tenderly. Carla closed her eyes, taking in the gentle touch that she may never feel again. When she opened her eyes, he was gone.

*************************************************************************************
It had been a year. It was too much to hope that he still lived in that apartment near his friend. Oh God please let him still be there.

Carla knocked hesitantly and listened for any sounds of life coming from the other side. After several moments of silence, she sighed and started to walk away.

The door opened and Carla turned suddenly. He hadn't changed. He still had the same liquid brown eyes that you could get lost forever in. He still had the same trusting face, which at the moment looked completely confused.

"Carla?" Michaelangelo was shocked. He had never expected to see her again; not after a whole year of being apart. And her eyes looked like she had spent that entire year crying.

Carla took a few steps toward him. For weeks now, she had planned what she would say to him when she saw him. How she would tell him that she had been wrong. That she loved him.

Mike waited patiently as tears began to fall down her cheeks.

And when she finally spoke...

"I laugh. I love. I hope. I try.
I hurt. I need. I fear. I cry.
And I know you do the same things too.
So, we're really not that different.
Me and you."

(Collin Raye "Me and You")