Losing Light

Chapter 10

Chapter 10

The visitation was set for a week after the call. Burton and Gareth had had a long chat, until Gareth's phone credit went out. They hadn't even discussed the visitation date. So I had graciously allowed to let him use my card (I wouldn't need it, anyways). He wasted half of it on video game talk and, when I glared at him, Gar quickly arranged a time for Burton to meet him. I wasn't going to be calling anyone soon, but it was good to always have it when if I ever needed it.

As I lay in bed, the night before Gar's visitation, I think of Reyna. I think of her beautiful eyes, and her porcelain face. I think of how she was a terrible cook. And how fantastic of a baker she was. I think of how sometimes I'd hold her waist while she was stirring, placing my chin on her shoulder. I remember there were a few times, rare times, when we would watch television without teasingly complaining about our different tastes. I think of our routine after sex. She would sigh and cling to me tightly, always saying, "Never let me go."

"I never let go." I whisper to the night. A lump forms in my throat. She had let me go. No, more like abandoned.

I grab at the sheets, my fingers aching at the pressure. My chest starts to rise and fall in a panicky rhythm. The bed is not warm enough. I wonder if she is in the same position as I am. Trying to cling on to someone who simply wasn't there to keep warm.

What if she had moved on to some other girl? No, maybe not. She probably got a roommate to help with the rent. I keep myself up with paranoid thoughts of Reyna and the possibly new roommate falling in love. The fictional roommate giving her love over and over, whispering all these cliche sweet nothings in Reyna's ear. I want to scream. I have so much love inside and no one to give it to. I picture little images of her in my mind. Our first date. The first time I made her laugh. Her many failed attempts at cooking that nearly caused fires. Tears threatened to fall like valueless diamonds from my eyes. I swallow heavily and make a silent promise to the ceiling.

I will not cry, I think to myself. I will only cry on occasions that are very far apart from each other. Crying will make everything seem blurry and less precious.

Fuck. Reyna really screwed me over. But it surprises me how much I was still head-over-heels in love with her.

God, I hope she feels the same way by the time I get out.