I played the scenario over and over again in my head. Tried to keep up with a fictional argument that I know I'd lose every time. It was dumb. Why fuck up something that was perfect? We'd wrestle, date as good friends, fuck, repeat. I was an idiot for wanting more, right? What more could I ask for?
I thought of the nights I still felt alone. The bad memories of London. All the British boys using me and leaving me. I would think of all the sweet things they'd tell me. How hot I was. How much they wanted me all themselves. I was nothing but dick to them. I hated that feeling. I just wanted to be loved. And I knew she was more than that. I wanted to believe that. I called her over.
She arrived hours later, hugging me and shivering a bit from the wind chill. "Hey Kris."
I nodded, greeting her back. "Yo. What's up?"
We made small talk, where she went about her day, but she saw me fiddling with my cigarette box. My eyes went all over the room, awkward to start the reason why she was here to begin with. Carter bit the bullet. "So…Why am I here?"
I debated popping one in my mouth, but I put it down, wanting my raw emotions to come out. "Carter… What are we?"
She stared at me, slightly confused. "I… Huh?"
"What are we? I mean, are we just friends, or…"
Carter continued to stammer, not able to properly answer that question. "I have no idea, man. I mean…I just kinda went with the flow."
I sighed as I rubbed my stubble. "I know, me too. But I want to be more. I can't just have us be like this forever."
"Why not? We seem to be just fine."
"I-I know but it's just a me thing. I don't want to feel like I'm being used. I want to be loved."
"So I'm using you?" She said, taken aback.
I gulp at the accidental accusation. "I didn't meant it like–"
"What the fuck did you mean it like then? I'm not using you, Kris."
"I know but…"
She stops me again, raising her voice. "Let's not pretend like I've been the only one not trying. You don't talk to me about your personal life at ALL. I mean you keep me at arms length every chance you get. I don't know shit about you! And I'm the one using you?! I'm the one who's not loving you? What the fuck?"
I hang my head low, then I speak up. "It's fucking hard to when you're expecting someone to leave!"
Carter was going to speak, but she stopped herself, letting me continue.
"I wrestled in Britain for a time. I whored around. I let myself get used. I'd fuck, yeah. I got my pick from all the men and women I wanted. I was the IC Champ at Lion's Ring after all…" I grit my teeth and clench my fists, resisting the urge to cry. "But it hurts. I would tell them all I knew about myself. My hopes and dreams. My fears and insecurities. I bet they forgot that shit the next fucking hour. You wanna know why I don't open up? I suck. I'm a fucking failare who wasted his chance. Now I rot."
Carter, after a minute, sighs and takes a seat next to me as I rocked back and forth, my face hot from exposing myself that much. "Listen I…" She shook her head, silently debating on what to say. "You texted you're going back to Oakland soon right? How about we think about what we are while we don't see each other. When you come back. We can talk then. Deal?"
I slowly nodded, staring at my stained table. "Deal."