"Have you ever gone to Maxwell's?"

I swivel my head, looking at Dave. "The pumpkin patch?"

"Yeah."

I chuckle. "Oh man. Not for years and years. Not since I was little."

"We should go."

I give Dave a sidelong look.

He smiles sweetly at me. "What?"

"I mean..."

Dave shrugs. "It's something to do."

Truthfully this, once again, had nothing to do with Dave, and everything to do with my ex. It was yet another something or other I had never done with Orion. These something or other's were starting to become large, and starting to take over my life. 

I still didn't know why I hadn't broken up with Dave already. This obviously wasn't going to work. It may have, at one point. Truthfully though? I think Orion had ruined me, for everyone, forever. I think I had reached a point where, subconsciously, I was going to figure out a way to get back together with him, or die alone. 

I'm unsure when that became a conscious thought, but it had, recently. 

The stubbornness in myself just pushed harder. I gave myself reason after reason of why I shouldn't--and couldn't--be with Orion again. First and foremost he was, apparently, one bad day away from trying to kill himself. Then there was the fact he was an alcoholic--another slippery slope. What would make him start clawing at his arms again? What would make him start puking again? There were too many damn variables. 

Yet...Even through all these reasons, I had answers for them all. Every single one.

Alcoholics could recover. Yes, sure, like with any addiction, there always was the possibility of relapse. But I knew Orion. He was one stubborn bastard; when he wanted something, he got it. If he took his recovery seriously this time--no, I didn't believe that was it either. I think he did take it seriously the first time. Unfortunately I think, with his stalker, life just became too much for him. 

In that vein though, I couldn't wrap my head around why he felt like he couldn't lean on us. He had two best friends who literally were no more than fifty feet away most days. Ben and Jake were the type of people who would help Orion, regardless the time of day (or night). I know full well if Orion ever seriously said, "I need you, right now", they would drop whatever they were doing and go to him. 

Lord knows I would. Heck, I still would, but I don't think he knows that.

As for the self-destructive tendencies, well. I know in my soul of souls if he had stability, and believed in the stability...those self destructive habits? Clawing at himself, barely eating and what he did eat puking it back up? I'm no doctor, but I think those may have been some sort of nervous tic. I don't understand stuff like that, but...Fuck, I d'no. Maybe it made him feel grounded. Maybe it was a distraction from the sinews of his nightmarish mind. Maybe, fuck, I don't know. Maybe it helped him feel in control.

I just wish he would have told me. I wish he have said something so I wasn't suffocating beneath this smothering guilt. I wish he trusted me enough to help me carry his burden, even a little. I wish he would have believed how much I loved him. I wish he would have believed in our love.

If I was with him, I'd like to believe he'd have a reason to live. 

Then again, he threw me out. He broke up with me. Was it out of fear? Shame because I caught him with alcohol? 

"Um, hello? Earth to Tristan?"

I blink. Had Orion panicked, much like I'm panicking over Dave? I know I shouldn't be with Dave. At the very least, I shouldn't be with him until I figure out exactly where I stand with Orion. But I didn't want to hurt Dave. Logically in the long run I knew he'd be hurt more. I'm still clinging to the hope I can get over Orion. 

Who am I kidding though? Every time Dave spends the night, it's getting harder and harder to not be disappointed I'm opening my eyes to David. Instead of getting easier, playing this sick charade with Dave is getting harder. I feel guilty, so guilty, but why stop? What the fuck would I say? "Yeah, sorry buddy, I actually never got over my ex, whoops"? 

"Tristan?"

Then all at once a horrifying realization hit me. I was doing what Orion had done. That day, the last day I saw him before he tried to commit suicide...He was trying to convince me the beer I had found was for a party, not for him. Once those words came out, he was going to die on that hill. 

Dave was my hill. 

"Are you okay? You're freaking me out."

I literally shake myself, and plaster on a grin. "I'm sorry. Maxwell's, right? I'd love to." 

"Tristan, are you okay? Seriously."

"Yeah, sorry just...thinkin'." 

"About?"

I smile. "Don't worry about it. I'd love to go to Maxwell's."

Conceding, Dave smiles back at me. "Wonderful! I already had some ideas..."

~

By "some ideas", Dave meant he had planned the entire day out already. Not that I minded; truly I didn't. At first I thought it might be lame, but after about fifteen minutes there I was having a blast. Truthfully I felt like a kid again. Just a carefree kid, having fun in the middle of October.

We went through the giant corn maze. Afterwards we shot some paintball (which I was only slightly better at than Dave; at least I hit the target a few times. Barely, but I did.). From there we headed over to the pumpkin patch and picked out some. After a quick stop at the car to put the pumpkins in the trunk, we were back for delicious food; two orders of twisted taters and lemonades later, we decided to split a funnel cake as we watched apples being shot out of canons. 

Dave had set up the timing so we would be on the hayride at 8:45PM--when the fireworks happened. As we were gently jostled around, the sky being opened up by multi-colored explosions that reminded me of blooming flowers, Dave slipped his hand into mine and leaned his head against my shoulder. The gesture made me smile.

"You're cold," he commented softly, looking up into my face that was still looking at the brilliant lightshow above my head.

"Yeah, a little," I admit because I was; the night had taken on a chill, and even though I had my denim jacket with me, my hands and ears were cold.

For awhile Dave doesn't say anything. I love fireworks; I always have. The older I found myself becoming the less I agreed with certain political policies this country held, and even fewer Texas itself did. In fact, if this wasn't my home state--if I wasn't tethered by so many memories, I don't think I'd want anything to do with the state. 

All that aside though, I still loved the 4th of July. I still loved a good summer barbeque and pools. And I still loved fireworks, regardless the time of year.

"Tristan..."

I look down at Dave. His face--his angelic face that's being splashed with different amazing colors that are making his eyes sparkle like gems--is very serious. I furrow my brow.

"What's wrong?"

Dave licks his lips, and I can't help but notice they're dry. "The other day, when I first brought up coming here..."

"Yeah?"

"You kinda--you sorta zoned out while I was talking. What were you thinking about?"

Fuck. I smile and shake my head a bit. "Don't worry about it."

"Tristan."

I crane my head back, looking up at the gunpowder clouds floating away in the breeze. "I don't wanna tell you."

"Why?"

I chose not to reply.

"Tristan...please? Please be honest with me?"

I let my breath out slowly and shut my eyes.

"Please?"

I open up my eyes just as a brilliant orange firework explodes over our heads. "Orion."

"Oh."

"I'm sorry."

"I thought so."

That surprised me. I look down at Dave, who is staring at our interlocked fingers. He's refusing to look at me. 

"How did you--" I start to say.

Dave shrugs. "The few times you've talked 'bout him...even when you were drunk, you just...Never mind, it's silly."

"Dave, I'm sorry--"

"You get this look on your face."

"I do?"

A green explosion.

"Yeah..."

"Dave, I'm so, so sorry--"

"Honestly, Tristan, I d'no if anyone else is ever going to make you look like that." Then, in a voice I can barely hear as a huge red firework cascades over his face, "Maybe, as time goes on, thinking of me will bring that look to your eyes."

I don't know what to say, so I don't say anything at all. After a few moments Dave removes his hand from mine. I realize just how cold my hand really is now that there's no one holding it.