He hated reruns. It is why he knew it would never work out between them. Their temperaments were too different. He craved new sounds, new hills, new smells. Television didn’t provide any of that. He was a creature who needed to be moving, blasting the next challenge. She held him in place when he was driven to push on. Staying was impossible. But how could he leave?
She loved reruns. It is why she believed it had to work out between them. Familiarity brought her immense comfort. It was bad enough she had to face the capriciousness of the twists outside her front door. When at home, she felt the need to remain still, surrounded by the recognizable and next to him. He was the necessary companion, the hinge that kept her tied. How could she let him leave?