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Max
Today marksthe one-year anniversary of my girlfriend’s death; a year since my life flashed before my eyes and the woman that I loved so desperately died in a car accident that I ended up surviving. It should have been the other way around. My thoughts are conflicting, I should have died, we both should have died, either scenarios would be ten times better than living without her. I’m desperate for her touch, just one more touch from Betsy and for that split second, I would be so happy. All I need is a second chance. If only I was paying more attention to the road and our surroundings. Granted, as the passenger that shouldn’t be my focus, but still if that was what I was doing, rather than trying to distract Betsy, we would never have gotten in that accident.
My girlfriend Betsy was driving, needless to say she flew out the windshield and I had a busted leg. I had to have a crazy surgery right away since some of my bone was coming out of my leg. I didn’t know Betsy had died until I woke up from surgery the next day. Life hasn’t been the same since. I went through so many emotions and eventually all my emotions ceased and I became who I am today.
I fuck for fun,basically because I don’t want to feel anything since my girlfriend died and I don’t. Again, I should have been the one who died and not her.
Instead,I'm sitting in a bar with my head down, and a semi-empty glass in my hand.
Wait; does that make her my ex-girlfriend? Does that essentially make me a widow? Can a man be a widow or is that strictly a word for women? Ugh, I need another drink.
I snicker to myself and shake my head clear of such thoughts.
The only reasonI'm still alive today is because of my best friend's Dane, Sterling, and Lucas. Without their persistent meddling, I would have been dead in a ditch. I should be the one dead, not Betsy.
I've fuckedhalf of the chicks who’ve come across my path since, never asking for many personal details, giving them the 'bad boy' glimpse and thrill of a one night stand. Thankfully, most of them leave that same night without a word, which is every man’s dream when he has no desire to commit. I have one repeat however; a guaranteed lay and that chick knows the score. Boy, was that was a fun conversation to have.Sometimes I remember, sometimes I don’t. I don’t care either way, there’s just the thrill of getting my dick wet that’s captivating me, not the feelings that could get involved nowadays. I go out to the bar with the intent to get drunk and to fuck.
I don’t have feelings anymore, at least I try my best not to as it doesn’t get me anywhere. I put on a semi-happy face for my friends and family, but as soon as I can take off my day mask, game on. I spend my free time at the bars and between the sheets. I frequent a rotation of 4 different bars in my neighborhood, just in case someone wants to try to have an intervention and bar-block me. After the accident, I stayed with Sterling and Dane and fucked like crazy on their couch, it apparently got so bad that they refused to sit on the couch, so I bought them a new one. Sterling, God bless her heart, pretended to be my girlfriend to a lot of nameless (and faceless, since I don’t remember most of them) blondes each time to run them out of the house before I even woke up. I chilled a bit on my hook ups and kept them in the spare bedroom which I was staying at. The majority of my hook ups took place at the chick’s house, so that way I could just leave. Doing all this with my leg in a cast proved to be challenging, but it made things interesting to say the least, it was always a conversation starter, hell sometimes the chick took pity on me.
Today, I’m avoiding my friends and family to drown in my misery in peace. I know that today must suck for them too, but I just need to dwell alone. Hell, I might even go home alone tonight, most likely won't be able to get it up anyways.
The brunette at the end of the bar keeps looking over at me and while on any normal night, I’d be up for adventure, I don’t return her flirty stare and continue staring straight ahead of me at the wall.
The screen on my cell lights up for what seems like the thousandth time since sitting on this stool, I glance at the screen, just another person calling to check in on me and console me. I let the call go to voicemail since I’m sure that if I open my mouth to speak about the event that I would break down or be a complete dick. That’s not something I intend to do. That would be feeling, hence why I’m signaling the bartender for another drink. Let’s drown in my sorrows.
The bar stool beside me scrapes as someone sits down on it, out of my peripheral vision I can see my little brother leaning both of his elbows on the bar top.
“I’ve been to at least 5 different bars and I find you at the one within walking distance to the house.” He sighs.
I smirk. I’m a smart drinker at least, no drinking and driving for me.
After moving back into my house, my little brother, Davis came to live with me. He had just finished college and was in the middle of finding his dream job and avoid sleeping in his childhood bedroom at our parents. He was just as tall as I am, but much more muscular whereas I’m lean and toned. He’s clean shaven, whereas I have scruff and while I keep my brown hair short, he keeps his shaggy. You wouldn’t think that we were related now, but growing up we were very similar in looks even though we are 5 years apart.
When the bartender brings me my scotch, Davis asks for a beer.
“So how was your day?” Davis asks taking a sip of his beer after it was placed in front of him.
I raise my eyebrow and cock my head. Really?
“The strong silent type tonight, eh?” He eggs. “I get it, am I cramping your game tonight bro?”
I shake my head and continue sipping on my drink.
“Cool, we’ll just sit here for a bit then.” Davis says.
“Today’s not really the night to fuck with me Dav.” I manage to speak in a raspy voice since I’ve hardly uttered a word in the past several hours.
“Oh, I know exactly what today is, but I’m not letting you sit and think about today alone, even though you are ignoring everyone’s calls to you.”
“I don’t need anyone’s pity.” I don’t know if he even heard me.
“It’s not pity buddy, it’s friendship, it’s family, it’s love.” Davis tries to point out.
“If you say so.”
We sat there, with Davis rattling on about whatever jobs he’s been applying to. Even though he is an education major, I’ve offered to hire him at The Crawford Hunter and Harris Group, but he’s denied it for the time being, something about rather working in his field that he worked hard for. So, he submits resumes, goes on job interviews and hangs out at the gym. He has a girlfriend; she’s in her final year of college at State so she’s not around too much, but she’s very nice and uncomplicated which is ideal for my house right now.
