wish i could write

I was sitting when the door groaned opened and an umbrella was shaken off in my apartment. I didn’t turn from staring at the at the rain running down the glass of my window.
“Hey, I came to pick up my things,” she said. I didn’t say anything. “Did you put them in the box like I told you to?”
“Yeah,” I said, shifting my head heavily in her direction. I pointed towards the kitchen. “It’s on the table.” She was wearing a purple scarf, a light blue sweater and some old beat-up blue jeans. A few strands of brown hair stuck to her forehead, and her dark eyes looked piercingly succinct and to the point.
“Thanks,” she said. I couldn’t tell with what emotion the ‘thanks’ had come with. I was sick of trying to figure that kind of thing out anyway. I could faintly hear the rain coming down on the roof as I looked at it through the window.
Her shoes knocked on the floor into the kitchen. The knocking stopped. “There was enough to fill two boxes?”
I tilted my head back and sighed aloud. “Obviously,” I though to myself. “Are you going to answer?”
“Yes, there was enough to fill boxes. That’s why there are two boxes filled with your shit.”
“My shit,” I heard her say under her breath. “Well, look, I have to be somewhere in a few minutes, could you maybe help me out and take one of these down to my car?”
“Yeah,” I said, and pushed the blanket off of my bottom half. “What?” she yelled from the other room. “Yes, I’m coming,” I enunciated. “Thank you. You know, you should really get out of this apartment once in a while. It would be good for you. You don’t look very presentable.”
I went into the kitchen and picked up the heavier of the two boxes. “I put your keys on the table next to the door.” I started to walk towards the door. “Don’t you want to put on a raincoat or something?”
“No, I’m fine. Really. A little rain can’t kill me.” She tilted her head and said “Alright,” enthusiastically. I ground my teeth together slightly. “Let’s go downstairs, if you’ve got that date or whatever you need to get to.”
“It’s not a date. I’m just going with some of my friends, and our reservation is for 8:30 and I need to be there on time.”
“Right.”
I made my way carefully down the two flights of stairs and out to her car. “Would you like me to open the trunk for you?” I asked quietly, making my way around to the front driver’s door. She popped it open with her key clicker and smiled crookedly at me. “No thanks, I got it.”
I loaded my box into the trunk and stared at her as she did the same with the box she was holding. “What are you looking at?” I looked away. The rain was coming down softly but steadily.
“Sorry.”
“Look, you cant just sit up there and mope about me. I said I’d love to get together once in a while. You know? What more do you want out of me?” She foldd her arms tightly. I could see the rain coming down in the light of the streetlamp.
“You know,” I said, my eyes to the ground.
“Yes I know, but that’s not possible anymore. Do you understand that?”
“You should get to your thing.”
“I should. I’ll talk to you later. Have a nice night. Maybe call up Joe or someone and see a movie?"
“I’ll think about it.”
“Yeah, think about it, David.”
She closed the trunk and walked to the driver's door, opened it and shut it quickly. The engine started and she drove off.
I walked back towards the door of my building, my hair wet and my hands numb. I stared at my fingers for a moment, then opened the door and climbed the two sets of stairs again.
I shut the door. The room looked the same as when I had left it. The light was still on and there were still a few glasses and some bottles on the kitchen table. All that left was the two boxes.
I went to the pantry and looked inside, saw nothing to my fancy, cursed the wood it was made out of and slammed the door shut. I stood for a minute comparing the loudness of the slam to the silence of the room that enveloped it so quickly, like ants devouring a dropped crumb of bread. I poured myself half a glass of water and downed it, and went back to my chair beside the window. I looked at the clock. 8:28. Deciding that I had not listened to the radio in a good long time, I flipped it on to the FM position. It was a cheap radio and none of the stations came in clearly due to the inclement weather. After rolling the dial back and forth to its extreme points a few times, I put my head against the glass and hoped to feel the rain’s tapping on my head through the window. I closed my eyes and let the static of the radio lull me to sleep.