A/N I don't even know what happened here, you can skip.
The stacks of boxes may have filled the rooms, and Wyatt running around like a madman may have made the silence more tolerable, but nothing could replace the emptiness of my new apartment.
Moving had been hard. Not only was it so physically draining to move everything into the appropriate rooms, or guide the movers to the proper locations, it was emotionally draining to leave the old place behind. Scott and I had agreed once the lease was up, we would both move out on the same day, parting our separate ways. He let me take practically everything we shared: the TV, the couch, Wyatt. He said he didn’t need the furniture since Alex already had everything he could need. He said he wanted me to take Wyatt so I wouldn’t be alone. “The poor cat won’t miss me that much anyways” he was solemn as he said his farewell to the kitty.
But Wyatt did miss him, and I did too. Even when I had spent nights alone in our old apartment, I had never missed my best friend. Without his presence, the air hung heavy, his laugh that kept in light absent. Wyatt had started crying almost immediately, searching for his other dad. He followed me around, trailing at my feet until I finally put up a picture of Scott and I on one of my night tables. He curled up on my pillow, staring at the photo until he fell asleep. I have to admit, a picture of Scott wasn’t even close to the real thing, but having a picture of him close made me feel better about myself.
Now that Wyatt was out of the way, I could finally start unpacking. I decided to start in the kitchen, since I knew how cranky I would be in the morning if I had to dig through boxes for coffee and a mug. I set up my coffee machine and put the bag of dark roast beans next to it, searching out my next task, unloading the ‘mugs and cups’ box.
I felt tears sting my eyes when I pulled out my red Elmo mug. Without its’ Cookie Monster counterpart, it was almost depressing to look at. Its’ best friend was across town with mine. I was reminded of the day we had gotten those mugs. I could picture our conversation clearly in my mind.
“Hey, Mitch!” Scott had called from our shared living room. “Come here, I got us a housewarming gift.”
“You did? We just moved in, and you most definitely didn’t have to.”
“I know. But this is our first apartment, and I got us something to celebrate. It’s also something we kind of need. Just open it already.”
I had ripped open the wrapping, which happened to be scraps of bubble wrap, and pulled out two boxes.
“You got us…matching mugs?”
“Do you like them? I know we need dishes and I saw these and I thought you would want one.”
“I do like them. Can I have the Elmo one?” I was overly eager for no reason, but he had laughed it off.
“Of course you can, now let’s go put them away.”
Those mugs had been the first things we put away in that apartment. We were so proud of having moved to LA, and to be starting a music career that we shared a moment putting those mugs in the cupboard. It was almost as if we were putting away our hopes, our dreams, and we were doing it like we should – together.
We had used only those mugs for months, refusing to buy any others until it became ridiculous when we had guests over demanding coffee and we only had two mugs. Even though our collection began to grow, Beyoncé, SpongeBob, and even our own merch filling the space, those two mugs always remained close to my heart.
In my hazed mind, I wasn’t completely there and had lost the grip on the mug, shattering it on the stone tile. The tears that had been hiding behind my eyes were now on the forefront, beginning to fall. I kneeled down to inspect the broken remains. It felt like some cheap symbolism in a high school English book, like the broken mug symbolized Scott and I’s broken relationship. But that was what was nagging at me, we weren’t broken. It’s not like we had broken up already. Before I had even realized it my fingers had taken my phone from my pocket and dialed Scott.
The rings until he answered dragged on. I didn’t even know what I needed to say, but I needed to hear his voice, have something tie me back down before I was blown away by everything happening.
“Miss me already?” That snarky voice answered on the last ring. He must have heard me sniffle across the line, because that tender voice that was hidden from everyone, reserved just for me, found its way to me. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” The tears were blatantly obvious in the slight quiver of my voice. “I just broke a mug, and I don’t even know what happened. I’ll let you get back to Alex, tell him I say hi.”
“Wait - no. Don’t hang up. Which mug did you break?” he was sincere, trying his best to comfort me over the phone, but it just wasn’t the same.
“I broke my Elmo mug, and I got a bit emotional. I guess I just miss you, you big dork.” I desperately tried to change the topic. “Wyatt misses you too. He wouldn’t stop bothering me until I put up a picture of you.”
He was silent for a bit. “You already put up a picture of me?”
I wasn’t sure how to reply. Was it weird that I had one up already? “Yeah,” I coughed, “I put up an old one of us on my nightstand. Feels like you’re still here that way, I guess.”
“Oh Mitchie…” I could hear him getting choked up on the other end. “I’m sorry you’re lonely.”
“Don’t worry about it, it’s fine.” I assured him.
“No it’s not, hang on a second.” Several seconds passed until I heard something shatter. “I just broke my mug.” He announced.
“Why would you do that? Just because mine is broken?”
“Yeah,” he almost whispered. “I couldn’t stand to have mine knowing that you didn’t have yours. It was a token of our friendship and having just one of them felt like I was giving up on you. Now we can have a new beginning.”
“You’re the best and I love you so much,” I was feeling slightly better just from talking to him.
“I love you too Mitch, goodnight.”
“Goodnight.” And I hung up the phone, heading to curl up with Wyatt.
