Rooftops and Invitations

"Come out onto the rooftop with me."

I grab your hand and you steady yourself enough to awkwardly step out the window.

"We used to watch fireworks up here on the fourth of July. They set them off from that park over there... We would bring blankets even though it was summer, the bugs were horrible and you'd really regret it if you didn't..."

I stop myself from rambling, like always, and try to enjoy a silent moment with you and wonder what you are thinking.

"You're lucky your room goes right onto the roof. I would have loved that as a teenager." Pause. "Not to sneak out, although I might've--probably would've-- like every fucking person would say, just to be outside and be kind of a secret, watching unnoticed on the rooftops of Brooklyn Center."

You pull me into a clumsy hug. "I would have invited you, a real invitation."

"I thought you were afraid of heights."

"Not here."