A Promise Fulfilled [WattyAwards#2012]

Chapter VII: Farewell Not?

Chapter VII: Farewell Not?

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"Desiring another person is perhaps the most risky endeavor of all. As soon as you want somebody-really want him-it is as though you have taken a surgical needle and sutured your happiness to the skin of that person, so that any separation will now cause a lacerating injury."

― Elizabeth Gilbert, Committed: A Skeptic Makes Peace with Marriage.

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Eight months.

Dex coped. He had always been good at coping. It had become a tool of survival, after everything that had happened. It was always a gradual process, the slow acceptance, but it happened. It was like covering up a cut with a bandage-the hurt was still there, and it occasionally stung, but he could no longer see it, so it might as well not exist.

At first it was all he could do to collapse in his bed and stay hidden under the covers forever, creating alternative worlds in his head-ones where he didn't f*ck everything up, ones where Timmy had listened and stayed, and even those impossibly painful ones where Timmy had said the words back, had loved Dex half as much in return. Those were the worst, because for a second, Dex allowed himself to imagine what it would felt like to have Timmy in his arms right now, and then reality crashed his fantasies all the more brutally.

After a few days, though, he managed to take work and friends and the need to shave and spun it into string to sew his chest back together. He stitched his heart back under his ribcage from where it had been residing in shatters in his stomach, adjusted the smile on his face, and tried to turn his thoughts around to keep from spinning on lavender eyes and paint-smeared hands. His suit covered up the rest of the damage.

For the first few weeks, the need to call-the need to take the fastest cab down to Baby Place and talk to Timmy-was more a physical desire than even sleep. But Timmy's voice was always there as a reminder in his ears, telling Dex over and over again that Timmy didn't want to see him again. Timmy didn't want him. Ever. So Dex always dropped the phone at the last second, or changed his directions to the cabbie halfway through.

Eventually, the voice in his ears drowned out even the need. And without the need, as the months passed, he lost the desire. Why pine the days away when forgetting hurt so much less?

He didn't turn to drinking. That was what led him to Timmy last time, so he avoided it beyond the usual beers with Jon and Davis on a Friday night. He avoided falling into dependence again. The first time he had drank because he couldn't deal with his life anymore. Now, he knew how much more painful it could be, and alcohol no longer seemed necessary. He found a girlfriend instead, to keep his mind off things and his time occupied. He knew that on principle it was wrong, finding a fallback for a relationship that never even happened, but found it hard to be guilty, seeing as Courtney made it quite clear she was in it for the fantastic sex, and worked hard to stave off even Dex's feeble attempts at establishing an emotional connection. She never stayed the night, and it felt very odd to not lie there and talk afterwards. Instead, it was always a sloppy kiss while Dex was still settling down from his high, and a promise to call the next day to schedule the next time.

But at least Courtney always answered his phone.

They broke it off after about a month-Courtney claimed that she was moving to Los Angeles, Dex was pretty sure it was because she had found someone more kinky and exciting-and after that, Dex didn't try again, not for a relationship. There were a few one-night stands, generally on those nights he went out with Jon and Davis and ended up finding a beautiful, exotic woman or cute, eager waitress. Those were better, because now he couldn't even label them with 'girlfriend' like he did Courtney. They were just people.