STEPHEN

STEPHEN | EPILOGUE

Dedicated to obsceniteas because she's the writer that inspired me to write a story like this :)

EPILOGUE

I pushed the water around me slowly, watching it kiss my skin before it went over with a tiny wave. Looking around, I leaned back against the wall of the indoor pool. None else but me was inside, giving me a sense of ease. From my view of the window, the snow stuck to the ground and I could see people walking. They were bundled up in coats, jacket, mittens and scarves, trying to protect themselves from the cold. 

And although it was freezing outside, it was bright. The sun was out without any trace of clouds in the sky. It was another day. 

Another good day, I thought, moving over to where my phone was and wiping my hands on the towel. I flicked through my messages I had failed to answer and before looking at the contact with an emoji red heart beside it. A smile came to my face at the text. 

Tonight? He messaged and I racked my brain, thinking if I had anything. No, I was clear.  

Yeah x. I sent back, placing my phone back on the towel before pushing my feet off the wall and floating backwards. I let myself hear the silence. I let myself hear absolutely nothing. 

It;s been a while since we've seen one another and although we had decided to take things slow I missed him. I really did. 

He was doctor in training , doing his residency at the local hospital. It left him drained for hours to come and when I had met him during one of my therapy sessions it didn't take a while for him to ask me on a date. It had taken a while for us to find a suitable day to go on that date. 

But it was worth it. He was worth it. Although I haven't given my heart to him yet, it was on the way. Because as my sister had once said that love can take time and I felt like I had all the time in the world especially floating and looking up at the white ceiling. 

Floating was probably one of my favorite past times. I could close my eyes, block everything out and just lay there being held up by the water. I could daydream, think, relax and not worry for as long as I had. 

I had taken him to do this with me once and although he had never really understood it effected him the same way. He had closed his pretty colored eyes and he relaxed, all the tension from late nights at the hospital fading from his face. He learned to share this in common with me. We had a lot of similarities but many differences as well. It kept us interesting. A lot of things kept us interesting. Even sex, something I thought would ruin everything between us, kept us interesting. 

I knew more about him than I ever thought I would and I was glad that I got to know his beautiful mind, body and the way to his heart. 

On the hand, I was a lot better. I was better in most ways. Therapy, for instance. I progressed and knew I didn't have much to worry about health wise. My sister and I had been talking more often along with my family. Things were great. Things were better than I had originally thought they would have been since that day. 

Stephen. 

The name Stephen soon overtime became a memory that had once been etched into my brain. A past love unrequited.

 There were times I would still be in shock of what Genevieve had done but on the other hand, I really should not have been surprised.   

Genevieve and Stephen were a lot alike. They both had their fair share of sleeping around. They both played a dangerous game, easily knowing how to seduce and strike effortlessly. It was insane that I ever thought not to compare the two. 

And it is without a doubt that I don't think of what could have been with Stephen. If he hadn't gone to her. If he had loved me back. There was a time where I would still think about him with anger, with sadness, thinking for revenge. 

But at the end of the day I felt sorry for Stephen. 

He was the one who couldn't change. He was the one who couldn't find love. He was the one that didn't truly get it from his family so he acted as if he couldn't give what he had. 

When I had first met him I claimed I had allowed my entire existence to succumb to him and only him. But what was there to give to one who would never obtain? What was there to offer to one who could never accept? 

In that veracity, it was as if a light had appeared at the end of the tunnel. And he wasn't there. He didn't have to be. 

It was something else in the midst of allowing myself to to not go back to him. To not give him another chance of redemption. To not go into the darkness. To not go where I would sink. Not drown. Not again, quite literally and figuratively. 

I didn't have to feel the pain of me suffocating, my lungs tightening, water entering me in replacement of air. I didn't have to feel myself fade in out and of consciousness. I didn't have to feel the shock, trying to find the oxygen that wasn't there. 

Instead, I could continue swimming. My arms cutting through the water and my feet kicking. From one place to another. 

Without the apparent struggle. Without the thought of the unknown. Without Stephen. 

I could keep swimming. And that's what I did.