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Rhys
Sixteen days.
That’s how long it's been since Thayer and I broke up.
Sixteen days since I had a real conversation with her about anything other than our breakup, squeezed her against my side as we sat with our friends, or made her laugh.
Sixteen days without claiming her mouth or taking her body.
Sixteen days of checking my phone every five minutes to see if she texted me and resisting the urge to smash it when I see she hasn’t.
To summarize it succinctly, sixteen days of pure agony.
I’d been so focused on not falling in love and not opening myself to the pain of losing another person like I’d lost my parents that it’d never even crossed my mind that there might be multiple ways you could lose someone forever.
That you could still lose a person even if they were alive. And that that pain could be worse because you’d think of them, you’d dream of them and yearn for them, you’d even physically see them, but they wouldn’t be in your life by choice, not fate.
I’ve learned since losing Thayer just how painful that type of loss can be.
Over the last week, I’ve given her the time and space she’s asked for and I’ve stayed away. I still shower her with small gifts delivered to her place because I’ll be damned if I let her use said time and space to forget and fall out of love with me, but we haven’t seen each other since outside of furtive glances in class or hallways.
I miss her like I would miss a vital organ if it were unexpectedly ripped from my body and I was still expected to live.
It’s impossible and I feel like I’m withering away without her.
I’ve done nothing except go through the motions of life since our conversation in the computer lab, going to class, then off-season conditioning, and then heading home with no need for other social interactions.
Tonight, Phoenix and Rogue stormed into my room and forced me out of my cave and to a bar in Geneva.
“If you’re going to drink your feelings away, at least do it with good whiskey,” they’d said.
That was two hours ago and in that time I’ve managed to get good and drunk.
The three of us sit at the bar itself, in the cover of darkness of this upscale lounge’s subdued lighting, sipping our drinks in companionable silence.
I’ve got my whiskey in one hand and the strip of photos Thayer and I took in the photobooth at the Christmas market in the other, my thumb rubbing affectionately over her face like I’ve been doing every day of the past week.
“She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” I say drunkenly, showing Phoenix who’s sitting to my left. When he turns his head, I tilt the photos away from his gaze before he can look. “No, don’t look at her. She’s mine.”
“You’re down bad, Rhys.” Rogue notes from my right.
“Hey,” I say, the word coming out slurred, “You’re one to talk. Bartender!” I motion for another drink.
“Chill out on the booze, drink some water.” Phoenix says, pushing my glass of water towards me.
I ignore it and instead reach for the new whiskey neat the bartender places in front of me, thanking him by placing a hundred euro tip on the bar.
“Keep them coming.”
I grab my phone and pull up my texts with Thayer, typing her a message.
Rhys:I miss u
Rhys:It’s killing me not talking to you
I lock my screen and place my phone face down on the bar, not expecting her to answer.
