Tragic Kingdom (80s/90s imagines)

92: Whoever You Want (pt. 2)

You had to watch him fall further and further for someone else. You had to hear about their dates. You saw the love they communicated through their contact. Had it been anyone else, the sight of two people so enamored with each other would have made you happy.

This just hurt.

You would slap on a smile to cover the cracks in your heart every time they were around, and had anyone asked, you'd never admit a thing. The love you deeply wanted to confess would have to be locked away, pushed deep down. If he was happy with someone else, you could be happy for him. That's what you do for the ones you love, right?

Slowly, you felt the pain subside. What started as a searing stab became a dull jab. You were happy for him. You had moved on. Finally.

You knew the love you held for him may never go away, not really. But for now, you could look and him and the love of his life together and not want to scream that it should be you. You no longer imagined yourself in his arms as you fell asleep. The idea of kissing him was almost foreign.

Being in love with him did not encapsulate your brain anymore. You really, truly moved on.

Your life became about yourself. You remained friends with him and even his girlfriend, but they were no longer at the forefront of your mind. The energy you had once put into wanting him could now be channeled into picking yourself up and becoming the version of yourself that you had always wanted to be.

You found reasons to love yourself more and more. Your smile, your laugh, your passion, your drive. Just to name a few. The list grew each and every day.

When you passed a mirror, you stopped to look at yourself. You always flashed yourself a grin before carrying on. The grief you had let settle in yourself from years of trying to make someone love you that would never return it in equal measure was finally gone. You never realized how tiring it was to carry around the weight of your love for him and the love you wanted him to give back.

Things started falling into place. School. Work. Life. It was all just how you wanted. Of course, the occasional night passed where you wanted nothing more than a face to kiss and arms to wrap around you, but it no longer was his face and his arms you wanted. Your longing had no face anymore.

The longer you spent single, the more you enjoyed it. You let yourself live a little. Taking opportune hookups at face value and nothing more. Harmless flirting. Settling down had no meaning to you.

Then their wedding invitation came, pressed between bills. Their names in dainty calligraphy across the card stock, the save-the-date printed in something more legible.

Had he sent it? Or did she? Did they care if you came? Would they care more if you didn't?

Why did you care so much?

It didn't occur to you until you were seated in a pew, two months later, when all you wanted to do was scream "Me! I object!" at the minister's rhetorical call. Oh, that's why. But you maintained yourself, as you had all those years. You smiled. You congratulated. You drank. You left.

You went to their housewarming party. You even gave them another gift.

"Oh my goodness, thank you!" she gushed, clutching the kitchenware. "They even match the other appliances!"

"I remember you saying that your favorite color was purple." That was a lie. He had told you back when she was still a new character in your life. Back when you held everything he said with extra care.

You saw the love in their looks. In the kisses they shared that evening. In the way they spoke to one another.

So no one was more surprised to hear they had split. This came through the grapevine, as these things usually do.

He called you to help him move out.

It had never occurred to you that you were his friend at this point. You felt shared in their union by now, but she had not spoken to you. He did.

You wondered if all these years, the invitations were from him. Maybe she called or sent them, but maybe it was at his request. Maybe...

No. You were letting yourself slip again. That was wrong. Especially now. Be a friend, you told yourself. Love him but not in that way.

And you did. You offered your couch when he found himself searching for somewhere to stay. You offered an ear on the nights he felt like sharing his pains and sorrows. It felt like high school all over again.

"I just thought she was the one," he whispered one evening. His voice was hoarse from crying. He had spent most of the day curled up. He laughed dryly. "God, I sound so cliche. Of course I thought she was the one!"

It hurt to face him, but you had to. "I know you're hurting right now, but I think she was the one. At least for a while. I've never seen that kind of love between two people. Even if it didn't work out in the long run, maybe she was the right one at the time."

Eventually, you were pushing him out the door.  The door of the Lonely Hearts Club hangout.

"Find somebody! Maybe you'll feel better after a night out."

"Well, how come you're not looking for somebody?"

You blanked. "I prefer to watch other people be happy together. Besides, I'm not discontent with single life."

"If I have to go out, then you do too."

So you stayed in. An unofficial movie night was decided.

The couch felt smaller than usual that night. You found yourselves closer and closer. You don't even remember falling asleep, but you woke up tucked into his side, face pressed against his rib cage.

Neither of you brought it up, but it happened again. Then again. More frequently as time passed. Then you incorporated hugs. Eventually, it wasn't unusual for a quick cheek kiss to be exchanged as a parting gift.

A few months turned into years. No one knows exactly when you two were "official," but everyone saw it coming.

Sometimes you wondered if those years you spent pining and then the subsequent years of burying those feelings were wasted, but then you thought about how life works. You wouldn't be nearly as happy had you not let life take its course.

Uhhh my hand.... slipped? I started this while half asleep daaays ago with no plan. And here we are. Hope y'all like it! Thank you to the 1 person that wanted a continuation.

(Also, I couldn't just leave the angst alone. We had to let it simmer, but y'all already know I'm a sucker for a happy ending.)

M'kay.

~Mariah