Beer, Sorrow, and Unrequited Love

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Gay and Lesbian  |  House: Booksie Classic
A simple short story

Submitted: December 17, 2010

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Submitted: December 17, 2010

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The strange smell of the Hook 'n' Talon did little to distract me from his clear blue eyes. His wonderful, enchanting eyes were focused solely on Claire as she told one of her countless entertaining tales. I tried to stare out the window behind him, trying to convince myself that I wasn't jealous of the attention he was giving her. It was sad, it was more than sad really, it was bordering on pathetic. Strike that, I was the King of Pathetica.
`
I tried to focus on the smells of the various alcoholic beverages that littered the table. I found myself willing his big blue eyes to look at me, to glance at me, to notice me, even for a second, even for a fraction of a second.
`
Unfortunately for me, Thomas did not bless me with the gift of acknowledgment. For all he knew I wasn't even there, not that he would care either way. Don't get me wrong, I mean, I knew I would never have a chance, never have aghost of a chance of even coming close to being the one he loved. He didn't even like me... hell, he didn't even see me... it's just... I was in love with the guy… A clatter of glasses brought me out of my thoughts. I blinked in confusion, and slowly realized that Frank had spill a vodka-and-coke on the ground.
`
Claire laughed with her high pitched, banshee like wail. You would think it would be annoying, but it’s actually pretty funny. She says something, the exact words of which I never heard, but I distinctly heard the word “fuck” and she motioned to me with her thumb. I felt me cheeks turn beet red, and I wished I could just bolt out the door. In hindsight, I wish I had. What happened next was one of the worst things I’ve ever experienced. Thomas’s face, the man- I- loved’s face twisted in disgust, and he sat in angry silence until Claire was able to change the subject.
`
It hurt on more levels than I knew even existed. It was a deep, almost spiritual pain that tore through my heart. In that moment, I think I would have rather been stabbed. In truth, that’s what it felt like, like I was being stabbed in the soul, like I was going to bleed loneliness all over the floor, and stain them all with my twisted love.
`
I plastered a grin on my face and pretended to laugh it off. I knew I couldn’t leave, to do so would show weakness. I managed to gulp down another pint, before claiming that I had to get home. They all nodded absently, and I’m not entirely sure they noticed that I left. I stepped out into the chill night air, losing the battle to blink back tears. I felt icy cold drizzle fall onto my face. The rainfall quickly evolved to a torrential downpour. The needle-like rain poured down relentlessly and numbed any exposed skin, and yet it didn’t come close to matching the numbness in my soul. I remember being grateful for the rain, for the constant downpour of rain hid the warm salty tears as they streamed down my face.
~*~
Either I’m a masochist, or the Universe hates me. Either way, I was invited by the gang out for another pub night. Somehow, some horrible, God-forsaken way, Thomas had found out I fancied him. He took it well enough, all things considering, and he even gave me a look a pity, which, being as starved for his attention as I was, I took as a kind of sick compliment. He jokingly told me that he’d have to be pretty drunk to ever sleep with me. I laughed at that, I actually laughed. Something about him makes me lower my defenses, even though I knew how easily he tore me apart on a daily basis.
`
His grudging acceptance of my feelings for him didn’t really change our dynamic… which wasn’t a surprise since he never gave me the time of day before, and continued to express apathy to my existence. He joked about it a few times, asking me things about what “turned” people. I enjoyed the lighthearted banter, but he made it clear that I didn’t have a chance in hell. I remember, later that night, Thomas and I were walking to the train. Not together or anything, Thomas walked at his own pace, and even stopped into a few shops. I mean I’m not stupid, I can take a hint, he didn’t want to be near me when we where alone. With other people there he could hold onto the façade, but when it was just me, it was just me. It wasn’t like I could complain, he had every right to be disgusted by me. People like me shouldn’t like people like him. He as a god, and I was… I was just me. My attraction to him was blasphemous. I was just a nobody… I still am a nobody, but Thomas, Thomas is… well he’s Thomas… I remember walking to the terminal alone that night.
`
I suppose, at the end of the day, that’s what I really was: completely alone in the dark. The train was late, and Thomas appeared at the terminal on the other side of the track. If he saw me, he didn’t acknowledge it. The dim street light on my side of the tracks flickered like the beginning of a horror movie. Though, to be fair, a crazed murderer couldn’t hurt me as much as Thomas could. Thomas’s train got there first, and I couldn’t help but stare as the train vanished into the night. My train finally got there, and the fact I didn’t have to pay for a ticket was little consolation for the fact I was going today miserable and alone. I rode the train to my stop and began my short trek up the annoyingly steep hill, and I sobbed when I finally fell into bed.


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