WCOST Chapter 1

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Prologue

CHAPTER 1

I awoke tonight screaming at the top of my lungs. This gotta end soon, I thought. Three years, four months and twenty six days later, I'm still drowned by that millisecond thought of you. Every fucking night I will see your face plastered in that semi-glazed windshield, staring at me with deep, piercing stares. Every night I will hear you whispering "I love you" in my ears, and meaning it with every bit of heartbeat left.

This shit is not healthy anymore. Between sweat-filled sheets and empty dark-lit rooms, the only thing sane is the fact that I'm consciously fluttering into my dreams of you. Taking Demerol won't work, and based on experience Tylenol would only help me drown out the pain, intensifying any bit of thoughts about you. Gripping the sheets, I lay back to try sleeping again, but I only end up staring up at the bleak, paint chipped ceiling. I guess losing you is my reality now. There is no escape between us, but only a transcendence that could never be escaped by wandering in endless thoughts of you - that is something I continually fathom. Even now, three years later picking and losing a staring contest with an inanimate object that was supposed to help forget you.

I could only grasp you in the air, longingly, as if you were right there in front of me. I could only bring back those last few seconds seeing you, and regretting closing my eyes that exact moment. Maybe it was my fault. No, it really was all my fault and every night I gave myself up towards the idea that I could only be fair to your memory by waking up from your dreams.

"Fuck this life." My palms feel nothing but air.

Ascertaining that the shit that was my life had already begun again today, I desperately managed to rise up and greet the morning which such incredulity that was less than appropriate. I had spent way too much time thinking about you again tonight. This was another cycle. Lather, rinse and repeat. The clock ticks at 6:37 AM.

My reflection in the bathroom mirror echoes that as well, from the unkempt frocks of black hair and the lithe thin body that you seemed to love, everything is as you left me. Everything is the same and at the same time, not the same.

As I enter the tub and immerse myself to the water, I hear the ticking of the clock echoing through the caverns of my bath. Wondering how long would this go on. Wondering if it’s really safe to let myself go or would I succumb to the routine cycle I had been going on for three years.

But I was and am still am afraid of uncertainty as much as you did, afraid of moving towards something that has no meaning or purpose. I would continue on living my life as it is, living on only my night dreams of you and working my ass off to waste time trying to forget you and failing. I would forbid myself to move on because moving on means losing grip of every memory I had with you. Moving on means the beginning of you fading in my life. And I won't let that happen.

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He held my hand like it was the most precious thing in his world, which was probably true. In between the forestry of the park, we sat there panting like mad men on an empty bench. He flashed me that seemingly toothpaste commercial ad worthy grin and stroked my hair lazily.

"You keep getting thinner."

"Well, fuck you too. I'm sorry I'm not the hardcore gym-rat that you are." I teasingly punch his sides. It made no visible difference.

"And I keep telling you to come and train with me. At least I keep you fit by letting you exhaust me running around and shit."

"And whose fault is it that you suck at the most easiest athletic sport out there? Not my fault if you can't even run as fast as me."

He pinched me hard, on the cheeks. "Cheeky bastard, always got something smart to say, eh?"

Turning to look at his face, I pout and stick my tongue out. He retaliates by moving in closer, our lips almost touching. "You define cuteness in so many levels that I wanted to fuck you now."

"Ah, that would be a shame." I removed his hands and stood up.

"Too bad you can't catch me, cause if you can I'd let you. And more worse is that we are actually in a park. And I don't want old people to see me being drilled by a hot muscular guy who just lost running against someone skinny like me." I began to stretch and bend, as if at any moment we would begin again, just like what we do.

"Haha, you had it in your mind all along right?" He then stood up, and whispered, "Hot muscular guy drilling you on a park, eh?"

Without me noticing it, he turned and ran off like a fucking roadrunner grinning like an idiot that he is. Fucking Wily Koyote.

I ran towards him, letting him get a head start. He knows I will catch up and win eventually, but I won't let him get that satisfaction into making me flustered like that.

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She let her hair flow down her neck as I massage her back. We drift into scents and she let my hands delve into crevices and places where no normal people can go to.

Her back is like a patchwork quilt, filled with burns, scars and tattoos. I guess growing up with the environment and family that she had would take a toll on her physically. But I wasn't expecting this back then. Every time I see her, there is this hidden pain and tremendous strength.

She had her walls built like a fortress and I became the one who had her only access to her drawbridge. That is something that spoke volumes about how withdrawn she was to her own world.

"Why are you staring hard again?" She asked with such benign curiosity that it somehow cut across the silence like a knife.

"I find it difficult to divert my attention to you naked as it is. Don't make it more difficult by looking at me like that."

I gesticulated, somehow ashamed that I was taking too long on her back.

She rolled unto her back, and faced me. Her eyes pierced through mine, brown pupils dilated with what looked like dew. Her small, lithe body was always something I couldn't mind seeing, and I felt that somehow this was a point where she could allow me to take it further.

"What, aren't you going to massage my front too?"

"Too hasty?"

"Too damn impatient."

I started kneading her stomach with my palms, and she moaned like hell. I admit, massaging is one of my strongest points and it got me bedding girls faster than alcohol. She readily squirmed into my hands and I found myself touching her breasts. Then, she suddenly went still. I removed my hands, seeing the mixture of apprehension and fear in her eyes. Too fast, too fast.

"Maybe, not there. Not right now."

"Okay."

Looking at me pensively, she grasped my hands into hers and put in towards her body, letting me feel her every inch.

"Do it again. Your hand massage magic thing."

"You make it sound like I do parlor tricks. Or make doves appear and rabbits multiply." I kneaded her shoulders now while looking at her with my searching eyes.

"Just shut up and do it."

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I stared at the ceiling while leaning against his arms, billowing smoke rings like a dragon would. We were naked under the covers, and somehow it feels right nestling in his arms as we bask in the moments other people describe as sex afterglow.

His free hand suddenly fumbled towards mine, seemingly seeking permission.

"Fuck, I'll never know how you do it and how you make me so turned on, but this - it feels right."

"Yeah."

He looked at me, casually turning sideways so I can feel him. I smirked at the thought of what he wanted and I ended up bursting out laughing.

"What? No more round 2?"

"No, I was thinking how tired you must've felt lagging behind me earlier. Never knew how slow gymrats were, even though they got a fucking 10 meter headstart."

"Fuck you too, babe. I try my hardest. If you get what I mean."

"And all this big hot muscular guy I have on my bed right now thinks is sex twenty-four seven."

"Babe, you love me for it." He grinned. God how I absolutely love that childish grin of his.

"Well, yeah, apart for awesome fucking, there's nothing left to love."

"God I don't know whether to take that as a compliment or whether I should fuck you crazy for you to fall in love with me."

"Who said anything about falling in love?" I looked at him straight in the eyes, putting up my best poker face. Apparently he didn't buy it and turned so he could be on top of me.

"He doesn't think so too. He thinks you're lying."

"Well, he thinks he wants that piece of ass on top of him."

"That ass is his babe, well unless I claim yours first." He grinned and leaned closer, until there was only one inch of space between our lips. I look at him intensely and grinded on him, hard. His smile widened. He leaned closer, expecting me to kiss him. Instead, I neared my lips to his ears.

"Not going to happen, you can count on that." I pushed him away and rolled on top of him, which apparently took him by surprise. He wound his legs around my hips and dragged me down on him. I felt his lips touch mine, and I smiled.

"You like this."

"Hmm lemme think about that more."