Ceremonials in my lungs

Richie would definitely consider himself a romantic, albeit a bit rusty at this point. Always the loud and obnoxious one among a group, opportunity was limited to showcase certain skills of romance. Tonight was going to be a normal Wednesday evening, normality he has grown accustomed to since meeting her - a breath of fresh air and friend first and foremost. You invite his obnoxious jokes, you even have a few of your own up your sleeves, yet it is your acceptance that has anchored him the most. Being around you doesn’t simply prompt introspection, it encourages it. For Richie, a blessing when the rest of his life is going well, a curse when it all topples down one meltdown and one interaction with Frank at a time. 

He met you at a bowling club, long after the rest of his The Bear family left the scene. An attempt to avoid life for just one more lime soda on ice. “Last one’s paying, am I right?” you smirked returning your bowling shoes after giving them a good clean. He looks at you confused and you wave your debit card defeatedly. “That’s how it goes. Did your friends leave you to pay as well?”. Richie sips from his drink and shakes his head, “that’s some asshole friends you’ve got, sweetheart.” You nod with a smile as your eyes move toward the exit, “Naaah they’re okay.” you respond warmly. After settling the bill you turn to him, “You want some company while you finish this drink?”

That's how your friendship started, a long conversation about bowling and your respective friend groups later and you suggested to stay in contact in case the other ever needs a bowling partner. And bowling turned into billiard nights, laser tag, arcade strolls once every two weeks if you could arrange it. Richie was hesitant in the beginning, the attention he received from you felt like a set up. In his eyes, whatever your intention was, you were way out of his league and your blatantly open flirting triggered internal alarm bells. If you asked The Bear, everyone would attest that Richie’s demeanor changed over a very short period of time, and life seemed a bit lighter. And sometimes he dared to dream about those doubt-inducing what-ifs. What if she doesn’t flirt just for shits and giggles, and what if this is his second chance?

Tonight felt different; tonight, you had invited him for a scary movie night to your place—you, a woman whose laughter sparkled like sunlight through trees—welcoming him into the comforts of your home  to watch horror films on an oversized projector screen in your living room. Sharing space and sharing your passion for horror with him is totally normal between friends, but Richie’s brain has been in overthinking mode since you so casually suggested the very different plans for your treasured fortnightly Wednesdays. He toyed with the idea inviting you over many times and you beat him to it. As the sun dipped below the horizon and shadows began to dance around along the walls, Richie suddenly felt overwhelmed by a tide of self-doubt that gnawed at him like a malicious specter from one of their chosen films.

The movie flickered ominously as you shared popcorn and half-hearted giggles and sweet “fuck offs” mouthed at each other when creatures leapt out from dark corners onscreen and it took him offguard. Yet with each echoing shriek from your lips came another reminder of Richie’s perceived inadequacies—your stories of trips around the world with your friends, live music you’ve experienced and all these soft impressions of a life fully lived draws stark comparisons against his new solitary lifestyle filled only by weekends with his daughter and hopes of somehow turning all this shit around. He marvels at your spirited conversations but feels a heavy weight settle over him: How could someone so wonderfully alive be interested in someone like him? As anxiety washes over him, turning every heartbeat into thunderous doubt, Richie finds himself retreating further into his thoughts even as you laugh together at his wild reactions to ridiculous jump scares.