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Catherine

He's been avoiding me.

I mean I get it. He's tired with all the ghost busting but he could barely keep eye contact or even stay for a little small talk.

It's like being with a ghost. And it's more awkward than scary.

Can you believe it? Months before the door broke, and it only took him about half an hour to put the new one on.

He still cooks for the both of us, but our conversations were mostly about my work. Once I say "It's alright.", the talking stops and we just had to finish eating like two strangers on the first day of school.

It was living alone all over again.

And I didn't like it. Not even one bit.

"You know I miss Bradley, but what happened to the other one? You know, the one with the big bike?"

I lifted my head to see Rose tapping her foot on the steps outside our building. I was trying to find my keys and she asked me if she could catch a ride home.

Ever since that Gwen fiasco,she started dating my sister. Nothing much has changed. Except now, well, she's dating my sister.

"He's got other things to do you know. The cars don't costumise themselves."

I'm used to him being around, that it feels weird when I only get to see him during supper. Or he comes home late, his face too tired that I knew starting small talk was a no-go. Sometimes I even get tempted to offer him a massage.

"I thought you two were hitting it off." She opened the door to the passenger seat and got in before pulling her phone from her bag.

"We're not hitting anything. I'm not his type." I frowned when she looked at me and smiled. "What?"

"See there's the key word. You said I. I'm not his type."

I pinched her side before starting the car. "You notice the little things too much."

She smiled and looked out her window. "It's the little things that help you see the big picture Cat."

I haven't seen her this happy before. Rose would have this kind of enthusiasm that looked too forced that I sometimes think she's convincing not just the people around her, but also herself. Right now, she's kind of just accepting whatever good stuff comes her way.

There are times when I wonder when I'm going to find that kind of happiness.

It seems like all my life,I have found happiness because I worked for it. The kind where you know you're going to feel it because you thrived to feel it. The process was just there to help build up the feeling.

It just feels like asking for happiness was unfair.

I was so used to working for what I want,that simply asking for a thing that can't be bought by money felt like a crime. It was like asking for too much. Or maybe it's just me.

I mean I got all the basics covered. I don't starve myself to death. Have clothes. I have things some people don't have. I'm happy.

I think I am.

"Are you happy Rose?"

It hasn't ocurred to me to ask someone this until now. It just feels like it's a question people should ask other people. Some of them may lie, but maybe some of folks out there would like to just say it out loud. Like 'I just got a dog today. Yes, I'm happy.' Wouldn't that be nice?

"What's eating you?" Rose was giving me this strange look and I just...I had to.

"I  don't think I'm happy."

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