I Met Him in the Summer

Epilogue : Sometimes I Miss You So Much, I Can Hardly Stand It.

I'm not sure what to call this chapter really. An epilogue? A preview? 🤷🏻‍♀️

* * *

As soon as Tine's feet hit the Bangkok asphalt, he knew it was going to be one of those days. The kind of day where nothing makes sense or make you feel happy. And true to his prediction, the whole day was spent in a gray haze of melancholy.

Something about melancholy is so heavy, heavy in a way that emotions just shouldn't be. Especially not after the amazing summer he'd had with Sarawat.

He'd had the best summer in all of his sixteen years on this planet and it ended crashing right in front of him. Quite literally, actually.

It ended miserably.

He misses his father; he misses Sarawat; he misses his shitty small town. He'd rather not think about Sarawat, if he can help it. So, his heart would hurt less.

He doesn't know if it's even possible.

Tine just hangs on a thin piece of thread though, and lets the day move around him; the happenings are occurring to him and definitely not with him. He walks statue still behind his mother to get school supplies, his uniform and brand new shoes.

He wants to cry half of the time.

He doesn't, though.

He eats lunch with his mother in silence, rides around half of Bangkok in the car with her in silence, and that isn't to say she isn't trying to talk to him.

He just isn't in talking mood, nothing personal.

His father had told him not to be sad — these are the times to be happy, to be smiling and laughing; he's still a kid, no matter how many times he insists that he isn't because he's sixteen and he had a job and can cook and pay the bills and fend for himself.

He's a kid.

Right?

Wrong.

____________________

There is a pounding in Tine's head and a too-bright light behind his eyelids.

Biting back a groan he rolls over and promptly falls out of bed. While that certainly woke him up it does not encourage him to move again. Despite lying on his face on the floor, the unfiltered sunlight streaming in through the window still manages sear his eyeballs.

Tine has to admit that it may not be the best idea to get drunk on a Tuesday night; not when the next day is his first day of school. He'd like to blame his mother, but sadly, it was him who grabbed the bottle of vodka.

With a sigh, he hauls himself up onto his knees way too quickly, bile threatening to escape. He slowly settles back on his feet, breathing heavily as he waits for the nausea to settle.

The last thing he remembers was drinking, of course. He looks at the floor as he tries to remember what else had happened but his head is not cooperating, the pounding working on countering his intentions.

This time as he stands to his feet, the world spins around him, but it's better than the last and he's able to move around the bed and into the bathroom. God everything hurts, he can barely even remember what happened last night.