A Whole Bunch of Loki's

If Life Were a Cliché - Part Two

A few days had passed but the hurt remained, despite your attempts to distract yourself from it.

Loki was engaged to someone you had considered a close friend.

Your Loki.

Except that he wasn't anymore.

This was a repetitive cycle that your mind was taking you in and each time your heart panged with another fresh cut on top of old scars.

It didn't help that your brief reunion made you fantasize about the good old days when you were together, happy and laughing and talking about nothing that meant anything.

You missed having him in your bed, either clothed or naked, cuddled up and enjoying each other as you discussed your plans for the future which, at the time, neither of you knew would tear you apart.

There was no surprise in learning that he had grown up to be ridiculously handsome either, he'd always been an attractive boy in his late teen years and now as a man it seemed that he'd only matured in the best possible ways.

You had been resisting the temptation to look him up online as much as you could, though your curiosity was dying to know what he had made of himself, you weren't sure if you could handle facing the biggest 'could have been' of your life.

Despite knowing she wasn't to blame, you also had to remove his fiancée as a friend on social media so that you could resist the urge to cyber-stalk her and hurt yourself more.

Silently, you hoped she understood why and didn't think you hated her or thought you were being petty.

Not that she was likely to ever know, you hadn't messaged in years, nor seen any statuses from her, so why would she notice?

Throwing yourself into work was a short reprieve from it all, a decent distraction until the drive home that would spark it up again as you're left to your own company to think everything over thus you'd go to bed sad, wishing he was in bed with you like he had been years before and in the morning you'd wash away the previous nights tears in order to go to work and start the cycle all over again.

When the weekend came around and you were feeling no better, you decided to take a diversion on the way home from work to visit a nearby shop to buy a load of crap and indulge yourself in the unhealthiest moping snack session you had had since your initial breakup.

You knew that you were going to feel like utter shit afterwards, but sometimes life kicks you in the balls and all you can do is cry, eat a ton of junk and hope you get over the pain before someone starts asking questions.

That was how you ended up pigging yourself away from Friday night through to Saturday evening.

You'd lost track of just how much junk you'd shoved into your face hole and the terrible movies you tortured yourself with to numb the mind, but in the end it was quite an outlet and although it made you feel equally as awful you also felt strangely liberated.

The movie you had been watching had just finished and you decided to take a moments break to stretch your legs and make yourself a hot drink, fed up of all the room temperature liquids you had been downing for most of the day.

You flicked on the kettle to let it boil away to itself and grabbed a cup, preparing the contents before leaning your back against the counter with crossed arms to stare across the room at the tiles above the counter, contemplating what to put on next.

The curse of having an overindulgence of choice.

While making your choice, you wandered to the bathroom to freshen up a little.