twisted // tyler seguin

thirty three

Tyler was a benign piece of shit. I hated him, only because I loved him so much. Him telling me that he was in Prague (a city I never even heard of, only until he told me a couple of weeks ago of course) was a huge slap in the face. I had no clue prior to this that he was scheduled, or even asked to play in this tournament. It was bullshit. What was even worse, was that I couldn't watch him fucking play since the USA only streams the USA playing. 'Merica, right?

No, not right. I missed him. A lot. Like, a lot. I was sucker. The only way I saw and/or talked to him was behind a glass screen on FaceTime and over the electromagnetic wave bullshit that allows phone calls to happen. It wasn't enough for me, but I had to make it suffice.

I think he changed. Or I did. Either way, our relationship was different. There wasn't many awkward pauses, and regret of a choice of words like there was in the past. I found myself finding the right words for him. Hopefully, he felt the same way. I had a small feeling he did.

Since the time zone was so great between us, we would talk at unruly hours of the day and night. Sometimes when I wasn't even awake, he would FaceTime me and chirp me for the way I looked like a 'potato in the morning'. I would call him after he fell into a deep sleep after winning a game. He'd be a bit pissed off course, but he'd get over it. On some really lucky nights, we'd fall asleep on the phone together. It was the best, waking up and hearing him shuffle around.

The part that really meant the most to me was how he made sure I was okay, despite his hectic schedule. Tyler pushed me to move back into his spot after a while, which I happily complied. I was going to end up heading back anyway, I just didn't know when. I was silly for trying to prove something to him by moving out.

I was pretty sure by now I was in love with Tyler. Love was something I really tried to understand, but I never really knew what is was. Did I love my parents? Of course. Did I love Julia? Definitely. I'm talking about the love that everyone hypes- the love that always has those cheesy quotes posted over a picture of a beach or a rainy day. The love that always had movies coming out in the theater, with the quirky female who meets an out-of-her-league heroine who shows her what love is.

Was I the quirky female? Was Tyler the out-of-my-league heroine?

Who really cared? All I knew was that I had a man I was head over heels with. A man that gave a shit about me. A man that I lived with. A man that could play a good game of hockey. A man that could play a good game of hockey, and come home to his loving girlfriend who'd be waiting for him at home.

Was the last part too much?

Again, who really cared? I had Tyler. I had Tyler to live with. I had Tyler, who could play a good game of hockey. I had Tyler, who could come home to me, who'd be waiting for him at home.

Maybe love wasn't the quotes posted over pictures of beautiful scenery, or the movie that would be awarded "Chick flick of the year" (while 5 previous movies were awarded the same thing). Maybe love was the thing that made you feel better about yourself by being with someone else. No, that's not quite it. Love was the thing that made you better yourself, thanks to someone else's belief in you.

I'm only 22, so maybe I was a bit off. Everyone's definitions and standards are a bit different, right?

Maybe that was why I danced around the lonely house. Cash and Marshall weren't even with me since Tyler put them in a doggie hotel. It was literally only me in the house that I loved so much. Day after day. Just me, myself and I. And the occasional conference call with Tyler.

I did have work every once in a while, but it wasn't enough to keep me entirely occupied. All I did was sit around, ring up a couple of shirseys and gift cards. The occasional Seguin apparel would pop up and I'd smile.

Michael and Gabby secretly made a bet behind my back to see how long it would take for me and Tyler to get back together. Michael won, saying it would take under a week, while Gabby said it would take exactly that, if not more. He was an ass for doing it, but I couldn't get too mad since it was out of fun.

Julia was especially happy for me. I was growing up into a "strong, beautiful woman", according to her. Thanks Jul. A lot of people saw a change in my attitude, apparently. I wasn't as quiet and timid as I used to be. If they could step into my fantasies, they'd probably regret calling me that.

I didn't do much but wait for Tyler to come home. Days and days passed. More and more games went into the books. A step closer to winning gold. It came closer and closer.

Mid May finally rolled around, and Canada won. I was happy, but I surely would've been happier if I could see it on my fucking television. But, it was what it was, so I couldn't do anything but congratulate Tyler. I checked social media, and saw a shitload of pictures of him drinking from the trophy. I wasn't surprised. He wanted to get shitfaced- I couldn't blame him.

When I FaceTimed him, he was red, and a goofy smile was plastered on his face. He was obviously drunk, which couldn't help but make me laugh. I asked him when he was coming home and he said in about 3 days. When he saw the frown on my face, the smile on his got larger.

"Don't worry babe, I have something you'll really like when I get home."

Did I mention he was drunk?

I assumed he was talking about sex. What else was he going to have? The stupid trophy?

I never really thought about having sex with Tyler. It was something too pleasurable and pleasing to think about. I'd rather think about it when the time came, so I didn't know what to expect.

The day after he won, he sent me a bunch of pictures of landmarks in Paris. They were horribly taken, but I decided to allow him to enjoy his time to shine. He sent me one with the Eiffel Tower, saying "almost as beautiful as you" underneath. I cringed.

The next day he sent me pictures of him in England. He never even told me that he was visiting these places. Him sending the pictures were his way of telling me of where he was. Again, I let him enjoy his time to shine.

He finally texted me later that night (or morning, depending on what time it was over there) that he was on the plane heading home. I was beyond ecstatic. I missed Tyler, I missed him more than I could put into words. The love of my absolute, shitty, maniacal life was coming back home. I would finally see him in the flesh, for the first time in weeks.

I was sitting at home, on a late Sunday night waiting for him to come home. It was around 1 in the morning, and the house was silent. Nothing but the clocks ticking, time wasting away. 1:30am hit, and I heard rustling near the back door from the media room. I was sitting in the dining room reading, when I saw Tyler approach the door.