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It wasn’t death that left a man in pieces. It was absence.
20
Lars
I guessthere were two ways for Win to calm my nerves.
1. Blanket me with comfort and that addictive feeling of safety.
or
2. Make me so furious that there was no room left inside me for anxiety.
I got both from him today. Admittedly, I much preferred number one, but it was likely because of number two that I swam as well as I did—top time in all the heats I competed in today.
Coach was thrilled.
Elite was impressed.
And me?
Tired.
Really freaking tired.
I still wanted him. I wanted him so much my bones ached. My heart whimpered as though being inside me paled in comparison to being with him.
By the end of the four-hour meet, I wanted nothing more than to find somewhere quiet I could be alone. The locker room was rowdy, the buzz of success electrifying the air.
It felt like it took forever to get to my locker because I was stopped by every swimmer for a high-five and some smack talk, which I appreciated being a part of but was at max capacity in terms of being social.
What do you want?
He asks now? Standing there looking like he genuinely wanted the answer, hoped for it.
I should have told him. I should have opened my mouth and let it all fall out.I want you, you big idiot! I wantto love you.
That would chase him away. Probably why I didn’t say it. Because even though I told him to stay away, I didn’t really want him to. I guess I’d rather have confusion and frustration over nothing at all.
At my locker, I tossed my swim cap and goggles inside and pulled off the windbreaker. After the meet, the team ran out to the victory bell in the middle of campus and rang it while everyone cheered. It was surreal to me how much this campus loved swimming.
Better than being ridiculed for it.
With the jacket still in my grip, I stripped off my pants, leaving me in nothing but my Speedo. Straightening, I bunched the outfit in my hands, balling it up to jam it inside the metal box.
That’s when I noticed.
Everything in my locker was folded and stacked with precision. The only thing in disarray was the cap and goggles I’d thrown in on top of it all.
The bones in my fingers screamed as I squeezed the clothes. The edges of my vision began to darken. Eyes glued to the uber-neat stack, I stumbled back, my breathing shallow.
Before I could try and rationalize, before I could do anything at all, that neatly folded stack of clothes reached out its gnarled, moldy fingers and dragged me back into the past.
Awake by 4:45 a.m., at the pool by 5:15. Practice till 7:30 and then a day full of classes, a workout in the weight room, and then back to the library to study.
The rain was heavy, pelting everything in sheets and creating massive puddles that were nearly impossible to avoid. The sky was so gray it was practically dark when I stepped into the apartment, my shoes soaked through and the hem of my jeans dripping.
The air felt icy against my wet clothes and skin, making me shiver, exhausting my tired body even more than it already was.
