Sacrifices

I promised my roommate two things the day I left Orlando: to come back at least once a month and to bring someone with me so I don’t have to do the three-hour drive by myself. Tuesday morning, I awoke with the promise of adventure and a longing of wonder at what my ex-boyfriend was doing.

Turns out that was the worst mistake of my life and I know about mistakes I was in theater for four years and turned gay. We got on the road about eleven, we had to stop for breakfast, soda and gas, and he never shut the fuck up for the remaining three hours. The longer he talked the longer I realized the reason we broke up wasn’t me, it was his mouth.

“You should’ve made that right.”

“This is the wrong highway.”

“This is south Orlando is north.”

I kept my thoughts to myself because the truth was I missed him. I figured this road trip could salvage that relationship that ended back in high school. I knew it wouldn’t work but what’s the worst that can happen?

I told him that we’re going to see my old friends from school, but we spent the most time with the roommate. She told us that she was looking for a new place and she was still wondering if she would bring the new roommate with her. See, when I moved out a new roommate came in under my name, which in some cases is illegal. But what’s the worst that can happen? They get evicted? They have other friends they could stay with.

We, the ex and I, spent the rest of the trip with newly not single. She moved to Orlando the same week I moved back home. She has five other roommates and sleeps in the living room, on a pullout couch, with her boyfriend. I told her that sometimes we have to make sacrifices.

“Sometime we hear the other couples having sex,” she tells us, bringing out pizza that cost her her last amount of money. The poor thing doesn’t start work until Friday and I couldn’t help but imagine her walking the highway and stopping by a homeless person, “Spare change?” He’ll ask.  “Do you?” she’ll ask back.

“That’s not bad though,” ex-boyfriend says.

“Yeah you can join in. Or have like a shouting match,” I say.

As we walked back to my car she told us that the apartment place had a really good security system.

“Oh, yeah? Does it?” I ask.

“Yeah, whenever a gay walks in the alarm sounds and says ‘Ooh watch out he’s stealing your TAMPINS.”

That night, I dropped off the ex at 9:53. We spent a total of thirteen hours together, the longest we’ve been together since high school. I came home and went to bed at 11:34 wondering when I could make the next trip up.