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Anger like I’ve never known boils through my veins. Another raw deal. Another punch life has decided to throw to break me down.

Regret eats me alive as I think of all I should’ve said, could’ve given her.

I could have loved her so much better, given her so much more if she’d given me a chance.

She’s already blocking me out of her life. It’s only been weeks, and I’m already a part of her past. I know she thinks this is the best decision for both of us, for now. But the tie she’s so boldly cut already feels like a molecular change in my makeup. It’s a change I don’t want, can’t stand to deal with. I feel like I’ve been ripped in half by loyalty and ambition.

Loyalty won on my part, and our mutual ambition just severed us. But the decision was made for me and for that I can’t forgive her.

But she would never let me choose. She would never make me.

I should be grateful. Instead, I’m pissed.

Sentence passed. I’m serving day one. My conviction in knowing I never truly got to fight.

My bedroom is now a tomb.

I have no way to go after her, not the means or the way. There are no magic words to change her mind. All I have left is this vessel I dwell in to turn things around, to change my fate, to save myself.

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Theo looks like hell, his eyes moving over me in assessment before he scours the outdated shit shack I’ve been frequenting since Harper left and the season ended.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.”

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