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Andy: How did we get here?

Mari: Are you drunk again? We can’t afford the mini bar.

Andy: No, I’m stone cold sober, and I’m serious. How did we get here?

Mari: Can you be more specific? Do you mean us *now*, or humanity in general? Because if it’s us, it was a demonic GPS and three missed exits. Humanity, big picture? Cosmic explosion, God, take your pick. 🪐💥🙏

Andy: You’re punchy.

Mari: You’re texting me at 2 A.M. What did you expect?

Andy:  Fair, I guess.

Mari: Why ARE you texting me at 2 A.M.?

Andy: Because I wanted to talk to you.

Mari: 🧐 We were with each other in a car for nearly 13 hours, and we talked for at least 11 of them. All we’ve done is talk.

Mari: Are you sure you’re not drinking? I’ll come over there and check, so don’t lie to me.

Andy: 😡 I’m not! Why do you jump right to that?

Mari: Because you have a propensity for drunk-texting and it’s the only thing that would make this make sense.


Mari: Hello? You still there?

Andy: I’m not drunk. I’m just trying figure out how to say it.

Mari: Say what?

Andy: I don’t know, Mar, how about that even though we talked for 11 hours, it wasn’t really about anything important despite the fact I haven’t seen you in a year and the only reason we were in a car together at all, driving across the damn country, is because it’s the last thing Grandpa asked is to do????

Andy: Or how about that I’ve had deeper conversations with my Uber driver, and no, before you ask, I was not drunk?

Andy: Or how about that all of that is somehow the most depressing thing about this trip–not that we’re scattering Grandpa’s ashes and saying goodbye to him, but this? That’s what I want to say and apparently there’s no nice package to put it in.

Andy: Okay, I know that was a lot but are you ghosting me now? Or are YOU getting drunk? 🤷‍♂️

Mari: No

Mari: I guess I can’t figure out why you didn’t just say this to me in person?

Andy: I’ve been trying to all day, but I couldn’t figure out how. You have no idea the pep talk I’ve been giving myself just to text you this, so if it’s that hard for me to build up the courage to freaking texting you at 2 A.M., imagine how hard it would be for me to say it in-person where I’d actually have to see your reaction.

Mari: I’m that scary?

Andy: 😈

Andy: JK – it’s more that I don’t want to say anything to piss you off, and I don’t know what’s going to, because I think I must’ve already somehow.

Mari: It wasn’t you. It was just, Mom and Dad fucking tossed me aside like garbage when I dropped out, and yeah, I know it’s not what they wanted for me. It wasn’t my plan either, but to treat me like I had committed the ultimate sin and deserved to be cut off because I was finally acknowledging what I wanted, and they wouldn’t even give me the common decency, it made me feel like absolute shit. Like the real version of me wasn’t enough for me, and I didn’t want to feel like that, so I thought if I could excise as much of them from my life as I could, I would feel less like shit.

Andy: I get that. Mom and Dad were and are assholes. You have no challengers here. Obviously Grandpa saw it. But did I make you feel like shit? If I did, I’m so sorry and I’ll include myself in the assholes.

Mari: You? No. Although I know you *love* a nickname, you shouldn’t give yourself that one. You weren’t the problem.

Mari: It’s like how texting me this was easier. Staying away from everyone was easier. In the simplest of explanations.

Andy: I think I understand, but it still had to be hard. I think I’d get lonely.

Andy: But then again, if the other option is toxic, I guess you have to make the trade.

Mari: That’s what I thought. I can’t say I don’t regret parts of it, or I didn’t miss anyone.

Andy: Like a brother? 😇

Mari: More like a 🤡

Mari: Quiet down, I can hear you laughing through the wall.

Andy: #NoRegrets

Mari: 🙄 ah, and yet I have another: don’t text weirdos at 2 A.M.

Andy: Hey, this weirdo loves you.

Andy: But I guess that’s what all the 2 A.M. weirdos say.

Andy: 😱 I heard that!

Mari: Crack open the mini bar 🍻 I’m coming over and we’re pouring one out for Grandpa.

Andy: On it 👍 🥳

Sarah Razner

Sarah Razner is a reporter of real-life Wisconsin by day, and a writer of fictional lives throughout the world by night.

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