It sounded pretty simple, but I knew differently. It was going to be a living hell for both of us, but if she thought it was for the best, then I’d give it a shot. For her. It’s amazing the things love will make you do. Love will make you kill, cheat, and steal. It will also make you walk away from the person who inspires your feelings if it keeps a smile on their face and gives them happiness.

Meanwhile, I’d be miserable. I’d been so since the moment she walked out of my life, and I’d continue to be so after walking out of hers.

Our final kiss before I got on the plane was bittersweet. Pleasure and pain all wrapped up in one warm connection of our mouths. It was heaven and hell colliding for one big ambush of emotions that I both hated and loved at the same time.

That was our relationship from day one. Perfectly imperfect, one big fucked-up beautiful disaster, that’s what we were. If it meant living on a rollercoaster of ups and downs for the rest of my life, then I’d do it to be with her. I had no other choice. She was the one I wanted.

“You look like you could use a drink,” Finn said as he dropped into the seat next to me.

He lifted a mini bottle with a big smile and then dumped it in the cup he was holding.

We’d been on the plane for over an hour and I was still feeling sick to my stomach.

“Thanks, man,” I said as I lifted the cup and downed whatever it was.

“Break-ups suck, bro. At least that’s what I hear. I’ve never been one for relationships.” He downed another mini bottle

“We didn’t break up. We’re going to try the long-distance thing.” I peered out the tiny window of first class and sank down farther into my seat.

“Yeah, well, good luck with that. I hope it all works out. I just need you to be there when we’re on stage. Blow Hole wouldn’t be Blow Hole without you. All girl stuff aside, we need you to actually show up, not just show up. Ya know what I mean?”

“Yeah, man, I get you. It’s just hard. One day you’ll meet a girl that’ll fuck your world up. When that day happens, you’ll understand.” I closed the window and laid my head back on the headrest.

“I understand, trust me. My day already came and went.”

I didn’t get a chance to respond. He got up from his seat and sulked to the back of the plane. I couldn’t remember Finn ever talking about a particular girl, but I knew better than to push it. Our friendship was just like that. I knew what buttons I was allowed to press and he knew the same.

I closed my eyes and fell asleep. When I opened them again, Chet was standing above me.

“Good morning, beautiful. We’re home.”

I pushed him back and he started to laugh. “Your breath smells like hot garbage. Go gargle something minty fast before the air marshal arrests you for terrorism.”

“Fuck you, assface. Get up. We’re unloading.”

I pulled myself from my seat, grabbed my carry-on, and an hour later, we were in the car on the way back to our California home.

I unpacked and went through all my clothes. I didn’t realize I was missing my guitar T-shirt until I did my laundry. She looked amazing in it. It’s only right that she kept it. I smiled to myself and pulled out my phone.

Me: I hope you enjoy wearing my shirt.

Patience: I will. Is it lame that I miss you already?

Me: If it is, then I’m lame too.

Patience: You’re THE Zeke Mitchell. You could never be lame.

Me: I’m lame over you.

Patience: I love you.

Me: I love you more

Patience: Impossible. Goodnight.

Me: Sweet dreams, snowflake.

*

The next week flew by as we did interviews and played smaller shows. My guitar was my best friend as usual, and when I wasn’t strumming it up on stage, I was playing it alone with Finn as we came up with fresh material.

When I wasn’t doing that, I was on the phone with Patience or texting her. I wasn’t afraid to admit that I was completely whipped. The boys laughed, but as far as I was concerned, they could suck it. She made me happy and that wasn’t something I was willing to let go of.

A week after that, we were on the road. Four shows in five nights in three different states. I couldn’t sleep for shit on the bus. Even though I grew up with the constant sounds of the shitty world around me, the soft hum of the bus and a few bumps here and there kept me awake all night. It was the life I’d chosen and it was a sweet one, but a man needed his sleep.

At our final show in our five-day push, a girl jumped on stage half-naked and threw herself at me. Her tits rubbed against my chest as she crashed her mouth to mine. She tasted like beer and cigarettes. It made me miss the sweet taste of Snowflake.