The problem is that it feels like she took the biggest part of it. I no longer feel the beat in my chest, the strength in my veins, nor the will to fight.
This test she left me, I fear I won’t pass. But I’ve got to believe her.
I’ve got to make our sacrifice worthy of the cost.
But first I have to inhale, exhale, remember my own dream and I have no idea what it is at this point.
I lace my sneakers and stalk out into the wind scattered rain, and I run. I run five miles until I feel the blood pounding at my temple, another five miles until my inhales are painful, and the breaths scrape my insides in search for the beat. I run another five until I convince myself I’m still breathing, that pound in my chest is a heartbeat, that I can still bleed. And so, I run. I run until I bleed out.
Lance
6 months later…
“Hey, man.” I approach my roommate, who sits deflated on a barstool. “What are you doing here?”
Theo looks like hell, his eyes moving over me in assessment before he scours the outdated shit shack I’ve been frequenting since Harper left and the season ended. The hole in the wall reminds me of a bar back home where I sip much-needed whiskey after backbreaking days.
“What are you doing here, this isn’t your scene, is it?” He’s just as surprised to see me.
“Not my scene, no,” I say, sipping my beer. I glance around the musty bar. Skeletons of longhorns hang sporadically around the place while stapled signed dollar bills pose as wallpaper. “This is where you come to hide, and it’s cheap.”
“Yeah.”
“You look bummed.”
He shrugs. “Girl shit.”
“Something to do with that beauty you used to bring home all the time?” I know her name because she’s my favorite barista, but I don’t want to let on that I do. He’s protective of her and has a bit of a complex. I was in my bedroom the night he had a blowout with Troy when Theo thought Troy had been pining for her. It couldn’t be further from the truth. I know firsthand just how off base Theo was with his accusations. Troy needed a distraction from the ache of missing the person he truly wanted. Don’t we all?
With Harper gone, I spent more time in my room observing life around me after exhausting myself at the gym. Six months without a word. Six months of pounding out my frustrations. Despite my best efforts, I was on a losing team. And this year I lost in more ways than one, I lost everything.
“You saw her?”
“Heard her mostly. She cracked me up.”
Theo frowns, his eyes roving over me with suspicion I expected. For a little guy, he’s oddly intimidating. He’s got an air about him I respect. And an immense talent that few have. He’ll go far. I’ve been so wrapped in my training, I’ve barely spoken to either of my roommates in the last few months, though Troy and I have become tight. But it’s been hard to put words to anything, especially after the way the season ended. Troy’s been distracted, but he’s been there, as silent support, when I needed him most. Daily, he’s still struggling, fighting for the future he wants, and the outcome he’s aiming for still seems possible, where mine is totally up in the air. Though wrapped in my own headspace, it was hard to ignore Theo and Laney and what they had brewing when they thought I wasn’t around.
“Thin walls,” I offer in the way of an apology. “Couldn’t be helped.”
“Sorry,” Theo mutters.
“Don’t be. Seems like you had a good year.” I grin and sip my beer.
“Well, my good year is ending on a shitty note. Garçon!” Theo calls to the bartender, who gives him a tattooed bird before pouring more shots.
“So, what’s your story?” He asks. “Seriously. I’ve never seen a jock be such a recluse.”
“I’m a creature of my routine.” It’s the truth. The other half of it is a bitterness that has been eating me alive. “I break out once in a while. But I stick to my circle, and it’s small.” After alienating myself from the team and losing Harper, it’s never been truer.
“I get it. Mine is dwindling.”
“Yeah, be careful with that.” Lifting our freshly poured shots, I clink my glass to his. “To the graduating class of 2019.”
We toss them back, and I welcome the burn as it slides down my throat.
“So, are your parents coming to your graduation?”
Dad’s deteriorating rapidly in his mindset without the right meds and most likely won’t be able to make the trip. Mom is feeling more helpless by the second bearing witness to it. The situation is as fucked as it is impossible. “Nah.”
“Really, why?”
Tony nods toward me, cue stick in hand. “I’m up,” I say, avoiding more small talk that’ll lead to reminders about my failures, about a future I’m not ready to face. “See you, man.”
“See you.”
“Jesus Christ, man, if I hear that song one more time, I’m going to fucking lose it. Do you hear me?” Tony mutters in his thick New York accent. “Seriously, this kid is your roommate? Make it stop. They’re about to turn on him.” A group of bikers taking up residence at one of the long tables glances over to where Theo sits next to the jukebox listening to the same song on repeat, his fingers in the air as if he’s playing piano along with the melody. He’s got it bad, and I feel for him.
“Motherfucker,” the bartender spouts over the music. “I told that idiot to slow it down.”
Theo looks seconds away from passing out. The minute the song dies, I hear a collective sigh of relief throughout the bar. But when the opening notes to “Everywhere” by Tim McGraw sound again, I feel the tension in the air rise.
“Fuck this,” I hear muttered nearby as two of the bikers stand, and I hold up a hand to stop them. “I’ve got this.”
By the time I reach Theo, he’s sliding to the floor. I scoop him up and get a number of odd looks before nodding over to Tony. “Can I use your truck to get him home?”
Tony pulls out his keys. “He pukes, you buy the fucking thing.”
“Got it.”
“See you back in an hour?”
“Yeah,” I catch the keys and make my way out of the bar with Theo hanging limply over my shoulder. The second I get him in the passenger side, he looks up to me, broken in every way a woman can break a man.
“I fucking lost her because I’m too afraid to lose her. Ironic, isn’t it?” His head bobbles on his neck, his voice cracking as I shut the door and round the truck before hopping in. He’s still talking as I turn the engine. “What kind of idiot does that? Me.”
It’s emotional vomit, and I feel every word of it to my core. But Laney isn’t halfway across the country. I’m jealous of his advantage. Harper is where she wants to be, where she chose to be, over us. I can’t demand or stand in the way of her path, the way she can’t do the same to me. She knows I understand it, even if I don’t want to. I’m at a loss, I’m angry with her, not for leaving me, but for the way she cut us in half, tore us clean apart without anything, not an inch of flesh, bone or vein to cling to. I stay somewhere in a mix between anger and resentment at this point because I’m helpless to the situation. This man is mere miles away from his solution.