"I miss my house. I miss my American friends. I miss my parents. I miss being so.....so.....I don't know," I rambled softly after I calmed down.
Clyde and I sat close, and I could feel his heart beating. We were siting on barstools with half empty bowls of cereal before us. I twirled my spoon in my fingers.
"You miss, um, being young? Free? With no responsibilities?" Clyde offered before taking a large bite of cereal.
"Exactly," I muttered.
"Are you worried about marrying Pietro?" Clyde asked cautiously.
"Yeah," I replied honestly.
Clyde stirred his cereal before speaking.
"What are you worried about?" Clyde ventured.
"I don't know. That he might not be the one," I said very quietly.
Clyde turned his stool seat towards me. He looked right in my eyes.
"You'll know if it's the one," He promised solemnly.
Before I could answer, Clyde was up and rinsing out his bowl. When he was finished, he looked up and met my confused stare.
"Are you alright?" He asked.
It was more of a confirmation to leave, so I gave him one.
"I'm good," I swore quietly.
"Good night, then," Clyde said before walking out of the room.
I rinsed my bowl and hung my head as I went back to bed.