The Wall of Winnipeg and Me

by Mariana Zapata

“I didn’t know where you were. There’s crime here—don’t give me that face. I know there’s crime everywhere. We might not be doing this for the reasons most people do, but I made a vow, Van. And I promised you we would try to be friends. Friends don’t let friends wander around alone.”

“You can’t live your life bottling everything up. You need people, even if it’s only one or two, to believe in you, and as smart as that boy is, he doesn’t understand that.”

“If someone messes with you, they’re going to mess with me, Van. I don’t want to hurt your feelings. I might not be good with this friend crap, but I’m not about to let somebody get away with hurting you. Ever. Do you understand me?”

“You’ve been with me for two years, but I figure I’m barely beginning to understand,” the big guy claimed, his expression solemn. “Understand what?” “I should probably be scared of you.”

Aiden: You genuinely scare me. Me: You don’t know how many times you barely made it through the day alive, for the record.

Life was all about choices. You chose what to make out of what you had. And I wasn’t going to let it make me its bitch.

The Wall of Winnipeg stared down at the much smaller man, and in a voice that was as close to a cool, unattached statement as possible, he said, “Touch my wife again and I’ll break every bone in your goddamn body.”

“I’m starting to understand that you can always make time for the things that matter.”

I was pretty sure his mouth grazed my temple and I sniffled, pausing. “Are you kissing me?” “Yes. I’m so proud of you.”

“I don’t know anything about relationships, Van, but I know I love you. I know I’ve waited my entire life to love you, and I’ll do whatever I have to, to make this work.”