It left me feeling...empty. Part of me is tempted to text Joel and Kristen, to see if they might want to hang out for the evening, but I can't bring myself to interrupt whatever they might have planned. After all, I’ve monopolized almost every night with them for the last two weeks, maybe they’re having themselves a date night.
Maybe I should actually go somewhere. Find a bar or something. After all, how can I expect to meet someone if the only two people I hang around with are taken?
Not that knowing they’re taken has stopped me from pining after them. Both of them. Talk about the unrequited crush from hell. I’ve never resented my sexuality more.
Even though I know I should try and get out there, the idea holds little appeal, and I decide instead to crack open a bottle of scotch and pour myself a glass. Then another. And another. It’s smooth stuff that goes down far too easily, and I’ve made it about a third of the way into the bottle before I realize it’s hitting me.
I throw something on my TV and try and watch, but I can’t focus.
After all, how pathetic am I? My two year old is out of the house for the weekend and I can’t function. I need a life. One that doesn’t revolve around the couple living next door, no matter how much I like them both.
When I first hear the ringing, I think it’s on the show, then I think I’m imagining it, and by the time I realize it’s my phone going off, I’m about to miss the call. So I don’t look at the caller ID before blindly swiping to answer. “Hello?”
“Hey, Stephen! Are you doing anything tonight? I’ve apparently forgotten how to cook for two, because I made way too much pasta. Wanna come eat with us?” Kristen asks cheerfully.
“Oh, I don’t know, you guys don’t need me hanging around on your night off,” I tell her.
There’s a brief silence over the line. “Stephen, are you okay?” she asks gently, “You sound kind of…off.”
“Don’t worry about me, I’m fine,” I insist, but even I can tell the words are coming out slurred.
“Well look, we wouldn’t invite you if we didn’t want you around. Really. We’d love to have you, unless you’ve got other plans.”
I’m tempted to take her up on the offer. It’s not like I’ve got something better going on. But I’ve also delved a fair way into the bottle, and I’m not sure I want the two of them to see me like this.
“Stephen?”
I realize I’ve been silent for too long. “I don’t have other plans,” I admit.
“Great. We’ll see you soon, okay?”
With that, we hang up. I find the cap for the bottle of scotch and down what’s left in the glass in front of me, getting to my feet. The room spins a touch, but not nearly as much as I’m expecting. I don’t think I could walk a perfectly straight line if asked, but I’m certainly not falling all over myself, either.
I grab my keys and head for next door. It should be a surprise when I see Joel walk up, but somehow it isn’t. I could hear the worry in Kristen’s voice, and I had a feeling one of them was gonna come to walk me over.
He smiles at me and it feels like a punch in the chest. “Hey, man, you doing all right?”
I nod. “Yeah, man, just had a few drinks.”
“Well, call me next time, I’ll join you. Drinking alone’s a bummer,” he tells me, throwing an arm around my shoulders.
My heart both warms and picks up speed. I’m touched by his sweetness and flustered by his touch. “Didn’t wanna cut in on a date night or something,” I mumble with a shrug.
“Well, I appreciate that and all, but it’s cool. We’re just hanging out tonight,” he tells me with a smile as he leads me back to his place, “And you are more than welcome.”
Well, how could anyone stay depressed with friends like these?
We get to the house and head inside, where Kristen’s already setting out plates of food. “Hey, look what I found,” Joel declares.
Kristen smiles up, but I can see concern in her gaze as she searches my face. “Hey, glad you made it.”
“I’m okay,” I assure her, answering the question she hasn’t voiced aloud, “Just…feeling kind of restless with the empty house, I guess.”
“Well, you know our door’s always open when you want company,” she assures me.
“So I’ve been told. Repeatedly,” I chuckle, “I think it’s starting to sink in.”
“Well, good, because I’d hate to have to get the baseball bat and beat it into you,” Joel quips.