A Match into Texas (Mike Fuentes Fanfic)

20

Jan. 11' 18

Well it's been a while. I decided to write down how I've been feeling, and what comes into my head, just like I did when I first started therapy, all those years ago. 

This hurts. A lot more than I thought it would. I wish Charlie were here. He would know what to do, he always did. 

You would have liked Charlie. He was sweet. He was my best friend growing up, lived just down the street from me. He was the big brother I never had, always there to protect me and pick me up when I was down. He would show me the way forward and help me do it. He never rescued me, because he knew I didn't need it. He showed me that I could be exceptional. 

 He was two years older, so he felt responsible for me, even when we were very little. I remember when I was in kindergarten and he was in second grade, a girl who was bigger than me knocked me down and kicked my front two teeth out. He pushed her away and brought me to the nurse. When we were walking home after school, he told my babysitter, a wonderful woman named Margaret, that a girl had hit me. Margaret sat me on one knee and Charlie on the other, and told us something very important. 

'You see these hands, my hands and your hands? Hands like these are not meant to hurt people, ever. They can hold other peoples hands,' she held both of our hands in hers, small pink hands safely inside long elegant brown ones, 'and they can protect you. You never hit anyone unless they hit you first, you hear?' I remember she patted both our heads, and made me some tea with lemon to make my mouth feel better. She told us stories about her family in Jamaica, and all sorts of fairytales we had never heard of. Charlie slept over that night, sleeping on the floor of the room I shared with my younger brother. 

From that day on, he always held my hand when we walked together. Always. 

Jan. 16 '18

Mike reminds me of Charlie. They're both very sturdy, someone to lean on. They're both very accepting, they never tried to change me. 

I'm confused. My emotions don't make any sense, which is to be expected. I feel my anxiety levels rising, which I also expected. If this keeps going i'll start having the attacks again. I can't go through that again, I'm not strong enough for it. I barely made it through alive last time. I've got the scars to remind me. 

Jan. 20'18

I remember this. This is when I start to scare myself.

I don’t like it. There’s something in my head. I t goes like this.

‘Three little pills, all in a row. Lined up like soldiers, ready, set, go. One for the memories, two for the pain, Three so I’ll never come back again.’

Jan. 27 ‘18

I threw my phone out my car window today. I didn’t want to hear from anyone. I don’t feel as bad as I did, a bit of weight has been lifted from my shoulders.

Feb.3'18

Miraculously, I've made it this far. I haven't heard from Mike- not that I expected to. Guys usually don't stay in touch with insecure girls who turn them down. Especially rock stars. But I'm alright. Breakups have never been my weakness, I've always managed to pick myself up after them. Admittedly, it had been hardest this time, but I've done it. 

And I'm back at school, set to graduate after this semester. Graduating high school early definitely has it's advantages. I'm going to U.C. Davis for vet school, and Lyd is staying on for another four years. 

She and Jaime are doing well. They hooked up in Vermont, and a day after Lyd got back to Davis, she woke up to a box of chocolates and a note from Jaime, asking her if she would go to a festival that weekend with him. They've been smitten with each other ever since. 

I'm sorry I took so long to start writing again. I was very confused for a few weeks, to the extent that I had to turn off all my emotions just so that I could function. 

I went to visit Charlie's grave the day after I got back. I drove to Arlington, straight to the cemetery. I still missed him, even after three years. It still hurt, but I needed someone to talk to, someone who would listen. And who listens better than the dead? I wrote a little something down after I got back, thought I'd put it down here. It's been a long time since I've just sat down to write. They are lyrics; they go to the melody that's floating through my consciousness. 

"I wish I had told you to stay, as I sat at home alone, you gave your life away. 

And now I'm here screaming at a fucking gravestone, begging you to come back, because I can't do this without you. 

The flowers by your name are wilting, the heat is sucking them dry. The world will soon forget your name, and after they'll forget mine. 

Because I can't be the only one to know who you were, I could never do you justice. 

Why did you leave me, what did I do wrong? you promised you would stay with me always, but now we're worlds apart. 

I couldn't come back for your funeral, I couldn't bear the sight. You were always the life of a party, I would die to see you again.  

Maybe I will, I don't know. I wouldn't be strong enough to do it. You always were stronger than I, but I know it couldn't have been easy. Tell me, did you think of me when you fell, did I ever cross your mind? 

If I had gone first, would you be at my headstone, screaming at the empty sky?"

Its about Charlie. He died too. Except his heart stopped when he pulled, my heart still beats.

Feb. 4'18

I have to go to the doctor tomorrow. Great. Just what I need, some snooty doc charging me an arm and a leg to tell me that I'm fine. 

I sound like an old man complaining what the fuck. 

I feel a little lonely. That's a good sign. I haven't felt lonely at all lately, which is to be expected. After going through year of this fuckery, I can basically understand what happens. 

First, I have a few weeks of feeling like I'm going insane. My head will spin and there are voices screaming at me in my head. So many voices. I'm completely trapped inside my skull. Then, those voices calm down. They take up less room in my brain, in my heart, and they leave an emptiness that needs to be filled. I become as lonely as someone who lost the only person they ever loved. 

Feb. 5’18

I've got PCOS. I can never have kids. Thats what the doctor said.

I can never have children.

Ever.