I can’t forget him. No matter how hard I try.
It seemed like a good idea. Get away from everything that reminded me of him.
But alone in my truck, with only the road for company, my mind always wanders to him. I could put the radio on again, but it has proved to be nothing but a traitor. Every song a reminder of new love, lost love or unrequited love. Every song a reminder of my feelings for him.
So I’ve decided to give up and give in. Instead of running from my feelings for him. Instead of ignoring it (which really isn’t working), I’ve decided to embrace it. Maybe be it’s one of those things that instead of avoiding it, you have to let it run it’s course. Like a cold. Maybe I have no clue what I’m talking about.
I now understand the saying ‘absence makes the heart grow fonder’. I’ve been away from her for three weeks now, just three weeks, and there’s not a fucking second that goes by that she’s not on my mind. I haven’t even called. I’m a bastard.
I shouldn’t have left her like that. She’s come to depend on our friendship.
Friendship. How I come to hate and love the word.
Hate it ’cause that’s all I’ll ever have with her and love it ’cause at least I have that. It’s better than nothing. Yet I picked up and left. Left her. At least for a little while. Until I can get over the urge to devour her lips and run my hands over her body every time she enters a room. And shit what a body she has. All hard and tight and curvy at the same time with … Fuck I’m gonna be gone for a while.
I only drive a couple of hours each day. I’m in no rush. Every town I stop at I do the same thing. Check into a cheap motel before heading for the nearest bar where I order a Molson and enjoy a cigar. The smell of the tobacco combined with the lager reminds me so much of him.
My hand instinctively goes to his tags that are back around my neck. I miss him.
I look forward to every night where I can disappear in the back of some bar and think about him.
Every bar I stop at there is always that one person, male or female, that asks what my story is. If I’m feeling generous and slightly buzzed I’ll tell them.
Spill my heart out to some stranger about love. About a women who’s heart will be forever wasted on a man who will only see her as the eternal friend. As ‘kid’.
I’ve started following the fighting circuit again.
Making my rounds from bar to bar as the infamous Wolverine, beating my frustrations away on every drunk trucker who actually believes he has a chance against me.
I passed a store window the other day. Had a display of hats, jewelry and gloves. I froze mid-step, forgetting how to breathe. I couldn’t believe the sight of elbow length black gloves on a headless mannequin tore at my heart.
I miss her. So fucking much. I’m damned if I do and damned if I don’t.
When I’m around her I have to see her with him. See her with his ring on. Claimed by him. Marked as his. Sometimes I catch myself wondering what does he have that I don’t.
Yeah. The Wolverine jealous of some punk kid.
Is it because he’s not an animal? Is it because he’s her age? Hell, is it because he knows his age? Maybe that’s it. Who wants to start a future with someone who can’t remember his past?
But…
When I put distance between us, she’s all I think about. She invades my every thought. Last week I even found myself sitting close to a women at a bar because she smelled vaguely of vanilla.
I’ll admit it. I have it bad for her. Gladly die a million times for her. Gladly die permanently for her. My heart beats for her only. Yet she loves someone who ain’t me.
I thought of Bobby the other day.
About how that would most likely be my only relationship, even if it was based on lies and mistrust.
I don’t blame him. Well, I don’t blame only him. It was me too. I know that. I think we got caught up in being the new mansion ‘it’ couple. I bet the break-up came out of left field for my friends. They had no clue that I wasn’t in love with him. That the whole time I was with him, I was in love with another. Still am. They just took the smiling faces and hand holding for face value.
They wanted us to happy, to work because we were cute together. And I think we bought into it. Bobby probably liked the popularity that came with being the second favorite couple of the mansion (of course Jean and Scott took first place). He always did like being the center of attention. I like that I was part of something normal.
But even that got old after a while. I learned, with the professor’s help, to accept myself, love myself, poison skin and all. I grew up. Once I did that, finding the switch that controlled my skin actually seemed doable. Then it was done. After months of meditation and battling internal demons, I did it. Turned my skin off.
And the first person I thought of touching was not Bobby. It was Logan. The man I will always love. Even with the knowledge that he will never return those feelings.
Fuck. I need to get into the cage. I need to fight but the town I was in didn’t have any action going down tonight.
I need to pound the shit outta some dumb fuck. So I made a few calls, found a fight and secured my spot on the roster.
Driving to the fight my mind wanders to Marie. Nothing new there. She’s always on my mind. From the moment I wake up to the moment I go to sleep. I wonder what she’s doing. If she’s on a mission. Is she being safe. My Marie has a tendency to storm into dangerous situations intent on kicking ass. She loves a good fight. Only one in the damn mansion that can hold their own with me when we spar.
I’ve been thinking lately. What if Marie is the closet I’ll get to love.
I mean look at me. Rough, tough, mean. Hairy, big, scary. A mutant with razor sharp claws. I don’t let anybody close to me. Even the few who get within arm distance don’t see me. Don’t want to know me. Marie did. She saw what I could do and still choose to trust me. Choose to make me her best friend. She tore down every damn one of my well placed defenses with a single smile.
I’m afraid she may be the great love of my life and I’ll never get to experience it.
I finally arrived. I walk in like I own the place. Once at the cage I pay my way in. These days I don’t care about the winnings. I put them into a bank account that I opened years ago ( I don’t see the sense in walking around with thousands in your pocket), that only Marie knows about. I’m up now, so I toss my shirts and jacket to a chair and step into the familiar cage intent on beating my troubles away.
It’s funny, being back in Laughlin City, where it all started.
My nightly ritual now consist of a beer, a cigar, and a good cry. I’ve been crying a lot at night this past week.
Crying over something I want but am destined to never have. Mourning a lover’s touch.
Sure Bobby and I had sex. But it wasn’t romantic. No the word I would use would be … clinical. Yeah, that or procedural. More out of habit or obligation and a need to come rather than an intimate act.
And even if Logan does touch me. It’ll be a hug or a handshake, maybe even a kiss on the cheek. Not what I really want from him. I know your probably thinking that what I really want is for him to ravage me. Although that is on my list, it isn’t number one. Nope. What I really want is for him to kiss me.
I never had a kiss before. Cody doesn’t count. Barely had my lips pressed to his when my mutation decided to show up and drain him. Bobby doesn’t count either. He kissed me once without a scarf between us. It was so cold, I honestly couldn’t feel a thing. So I want Logan to kiss me. I want him to be my first (and always) real kiss. But then again I also want season tickets to the Maple Leafs and human-mutant peace. Doesn’t mean that I’ll get it.
I stop singing along with the radio (I gave in and put it back on), so I can start figuring out where I am. It’s about that time that I secure a decent room for the night before I head to the closet bar and drown my sorrows.
I let out dry laugh when I notice where I am. Right outside a huge tin building surrounded by semi’s and trucks. A place better known as Laughlin City.
Shit might as well go in. Have a drink in the place that started it all.
The Wolverine & Rogue Fanfiction Archive
Barely Legal Since 2000