"We can't touch the sadness we're all chewing on,
but we save a hard plastic seat for it every night."
They met each other for the first time on the train at 1 in the morning.
An unspoken question was asked, they wander together towards the closest McDonald's.
They share an order of fries and two milkshakes.
Piper pretends not to notice the cuts littering Alex's wrist.
Alex pretends not to notice the purple blooming bruises on Piper's knuckles.
They talk about everything and nothing, have political debates in dimly lit 24/hour ice cream shops.
In the early hours when everything is quiet, fill in the silence gaps with talk about wanting to leave this town and go somewhere.
They have that in common. Wanting to leave, but never making any plans. They might run out of things to talk about if they do.
Recently discovering their parent's homes are down the street from each other.
Alex's birthday comes and goes and her mom surprises her with a car of her own.
She picks Piper up instead of the train from here on out.
/
They're isolated in their own little world with just the two of them.
They drift towards each other because they're all they have and there's nowhere else to go.
Go to parks, and people-watch because strangers are interesting, much more interesting than people who know.
When Alex goes to pick Piper up at 4 AM, she doesn't question her wet cheeks. Only asks, are you hungry? Where do you want to go?
Piper was never one for pity, and Alex never had to ask to know that. She never gave pity in the first place.
They pick fights with themselves, a battle to see if they can survive.
The monsters in their heads always good sparring partners.
They never groaned about what the other did to try to stay alive.
Alex's cigarette habit was never a problem.
Piper's pill bottles littering the floor of Alex's backseat was never a problem.
Coping, they'd say but never do. They didn't talk about it.
/
They're used to having their own time, just Alex and Piper and the quiet rush of waves from the ocean nearby.
So when they get an invitation to a big party downtown, they were hesitant.
"Well, think of the story we'll have."
So they attend.
They never leave each other's side the entire night until Alex has to go to the restroom and tells Piper she'll be right back.
Piper meanders towards the bar, letting her fingers linger over the many poison choices.
A woman, not as tall as her, watches Piper from afar and slowly lets her feet glide her towards Piper, like a predator stalking their prey.
There's a smirk, there's a flick of hair and this woman, Tiffany, thinks she's got Piper wrapped around her finger.
But she doesn't know Piper at all.
No one does.
Piper's comfort level is deteriorating and she's more or less imagining how Tiffany's face would look after her fist collides with it.
Well… that was before Alex's fist collided first when Tiffany got a little too close for taste.
Piper doesn't say any words but the question is lingering even after Alex takes her hand and drags her outside to the car.
Piper doesn't say any words but Alex slamming the car door and the white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel answered any questions she may have had.
Alex wasn't good with sharing.
She was good at protecting what they wanted to take.
/
Piper's parents fell out of love seven years into their thirteen year marriage.
Alex's parents never married, fell out of love before the word could be a thought.
Both set of parents rotted the same.
Piper's parents never fought.
Alex's parents fought more often than not.
At the end of it, their parents weren't people. They were mere ghosts of who they once were.
Another thing they had in common.
They didn't want to fall in love.
They didn't want to rot like their parents did.
/
Piper writes poetry.
Sad poetry, poetry about heartbreak and death.
Heartbreak and death.
Heartbreak and death.
Heartbreak and death.
If you say it enough times, it loses meaning, right?
Wrong.
They still mean all too fucking much, no matter what twist you add.
Piper never showed Alex her poetry, and Alex never asked.
Piper was asleep on the couch in Alex's childhood home, so Alex decided to clean out her car.
Crumpled up pages with a thousand pen strokes caught her eye.
She smoothed them out and read them, trying to identify what they are, if they should be thrown out.
She recognizes Piper's handwriting after she read through once, which made her read through another two times to soak.
She could feel the pain radiating through the page to her skin like the sun itself was beating down on her.
They don't talk about this.
They don't talk about the history that made them.
They don't talk about why Piper clings to Alex's shoulder every time there's a loud yell or a stranger too close for liking (but wait...isn't Alex just as much of a stranger as they are?)They don't talk about that.
They don't talk about the important matters. The important matters don't matter.
They pretend they're more friends than strangers, but they don't know each other like friends should (do they?) They don't talk about it.
They don't talk about how Alex is afraid of death but tries to kill herself. They don't talk about how Alex refers to it as "facing her fears head-on".
They don't talk about the amount of pills growing on Piper's plate every morning, how thin she's getting, replacing three square meals a day with Adderall to "soften up the razor sharp sucker punch of knowing we're all destined to be a humanoid horror movie".
They don't talk about it.
/
Until one day, they do.
The question appears when they're both the right amount of buzzed from the stolen liquor.
"What are we doing?"
At first, the immediate reaction was shock because Piper thought she'd be the one to ask that first.
Not Alex.
She doesn't think the question weighs any meaning so she doesn't reply for five minutes, doesn't even look up from her spot on the floor.
She thinks maybe the alcohol is getting Alex too deep in thought and she'll probably forget she asked that in awhile but when she looks up, Alex's eyes are so big. So wide, and so impossibly bright. She's looking down at Piper likes she holds the key of certainty.
"I thought we were...existing. We are, aren't we?"
Alex's eyes are getting a little wetter, and she shakes her head to the side and a hollowed laugh bubbles out of her throat.
"I don't think we can necessarily call what we're doing existing, Pipes. We're surviving, but this isn't a way to exist."
Piper chews her bottom lip, all too full of certainty that this was going to end with her gasping for breath on the floor and smelling smoke. She nods her head once, looks up with wide blue eyes, nods again for good measure. Because Alex is right. This isn't the way to exist. This wasn't a way to live.
"I don't know any other way, Alex. I'm awaiting my inevitable death. Once you get to that point, I don't think there will ever be a good way to live. You of all people know that just as well as me."
Alex bites the inside of her cheek and nods her head.
They sit in that position for seven minutes before Alex slowly makes her way to the floor next to Piper.
When she gets comfortable, Piper's head automatically goes to it's place on her shoulder.
"I think I love you, Piper."
Piper doesn't flinch for the first time.
She knew it would be said eventually.
Not because she believes everyone will love her, but because of quite the opposite.
She has always been a firm believer that no one will fall in love with her, because no one would even stay 22 months with her destructive behavior and hard knock sense of self.
Alex has been here for 36 months.
Yeah, she counts them.
"I believe you should be sure of yourself before choosing your poison, Al."
They never believed they would make it to the word, "love".
Piper believed they would hate each other quicker than they would've fell in love with each other.
But, that never happened.
They never opened up to each other at such a level because what would be the point if nothing was long-term?
Tonight, unlike other nights, makes them believe that maybe what they have is something good.
Something worth holding onto.
Something worth sticking around for.
"Piper, I love you."
An etch of a smile, blinking away tears before realizing she's been crying the entire time.
She leans her head up, looks Alex dead in the eye before Alex speaks again, practically reading her mind.
"Yes, it's terrifying. We promised ourselves we'd never make the mistake of falling in love. We won't turn into our parents if we don't choose what they chose. But, Piper, I never chose to fall in love. It happened and it's the only fucking thing I can't control. And I'm not going to apologize for it either. I love you."
"I love you, too."
They were sure that the words didn't even have to be said.
They were always better at communicating without words, anyways.
But the recognition.
Putting words to the feelings.
Expressing those feelings without fear of the other leaving.
Because they know, now, leaving isn't an option.
If they had to rot with anyone or no one, they would pick each other.
Every time.