Contained and Released

Flash

Taine was procrastinating. Well, he had been for a few days. For the plain reason of how to text her and just to get it over himself that she probably did want him to text her. However, the guilt of now texting her was eating him away, only preventing him from texting her for longer. 

A pointless conflict in the confinements of his mind - he knew he was pathetic, and he couldn't do anything about that. Weakness spread through his body at full force, it felt like he was about to go into a state of panic. Wave after wave. Sitting on his bed wasn't going to do anything and he knew that he knew too much about what he didn't want to. Unlike the different normal people.

He threw his phone in front of him just staring at it as if his problem would go away, but then it made a beeping noise. 

It would be embarrassing if she had texted him first, in his eyes, but he would be glad if Flora did. A relief of the guilt he deserved.

'Hey Taine, I was wondering if you would like to come and grab a coffee or something with me today? :)' She messaged.

He wondered if he made her feel like she had to text him, just to let him down slowly and tell him he wasn't what she thought he was. He could tell that the girl used her brain a lot, maybe over analysing a situation, but not acting upon the several conclusions she'd come up with.

He could reject her, it wasn't in him too, and he liked her more than he'd like anyone else in his lifetime. Maybe she was beginning to get too close, even though she had only moved a millimetre over his million-mile ocean. It was a scary feeling, one that could hurt him and make him too nervous to function.

Hopefully, that would be something most people could relate to, even if he was convincing himself that everything he thought was a bunch of cr*p.

'Yes, I would like to see you'  He had to be honest, he was trying to be somewhat charming. This boldness was flourishing out of no-where. A rebirth that he didn't know if he liked or not.

When he would observe people, they'd type on their phone with their two thumbs. He couldn't do that. He was naturally incompetent. The worst of the worst. He knew it was barely anything to be upset about, but his mind was a mess and the demons were tormentors for a reason. They needed to be known, so any petty thing to be accused of, was brought straight in front of him, a clear obstacle he would never overcome. How annoying.

'Great, meet me at the cafe on campus, see ya later' She messaged back. It made him smile, a scatter of red roses flush against his cheeks at what he was actually doing. 

Was this... was this a date? She didn't mention it, but do people ever confirm it nowadays? This was strange. Very strange. Actually going out and embracing what he could, was foreign. This wasn't allowed, well, before it wasn't. But he can't seem to give liberty to the concept that he wasn't supposed to be doing this. He wasn't supposed to do this. Enjoy himself. This was unfathomable to him and so, so confusing.

He was now lost in the ocean and he'd thought he had found an island to breathe on - for a second.

Time was breaking in his mind and suddenly everything he saw, was red.

Flash.

Fake.

Flash.

Gone.

Flash.

Broke.

He needed to do something. Sitting on his bed, doing nothing to help him, made him even angrier. He needed a poor excuse of a distraction, his favourite one. The gym. The only place and pass time that could save him from physical damage - yet it only influenced it at the same time.

Within the span of ten minutes, he was in his car fully dressed in his gym clothes which consisted of a loose tank top, adidas track pants and a hoodie to cover himself. He was at the gym in 5 minutes and nodding at the receptionist to go into his room at the back.

As he walked through with his head down, bag slung across his shoulders people seemed to stare. He felt it crawling up his back and wandering into the hills of his muscles. Privacy didn't appear to be possessed by him, apparently, everyone took it upon themselves to invade every part of him. He could always feel it. It was uncomfortable and unnerving.

Like someone knew something or was searching for something on him. To connect with his demons and make him suffer more. But in the confinements of his hired out room, he could chill - a little bit.  At least not worry about a collection of intrusive eyes staring at him. 

All of his equipment was there as usual. He had a special agreement with the owner of this place, he could use the gym and whatever equipment with no charge, but he had to clean the gym after closing hours. He didn't mind, it tired him out so he had some hope of going back to his dorm and completely falling flat out on his face asleep.

Even though he was alone at those times, he didn't feel completely vulnerable  - he felt calm. Believe it or not, it was a true lie.

First off he warmed himself up, jogging around some places and whatever else he felt was necessary and then stretching. 

Slowly shaking off the memory of her.

He set up a circuit of weights, that would push him to about 60% of his capabilities - something a boxer would probably struggle with. 

Releasing the weight off his shoulders to his hands.

Then he was using the bars, strapping up a contraption over his hands so they didn't split and then strapping a huge deadlift weight over his waist. Pull-ups were next.

Lift the scars off his shoulders. 

Next were some classic Taine, completely crazy and weird workouts. One of them was lifting a tire, hammering it with a heavy metal bat and repeating. Impossible looking workouts like that were his forte. It was nice to know what you were doing, even if you felt so out of place.

He moved her out of the place in his mind. For now.

 He lifted.

Carried on.

Repeated everything.

Sweat was dripping over his monstrous form.

That idea of Flora not actually wanting to see him became more prominent. Signs were stabbing themselves onto his mind that she was playing him, was the only thing he could see as he punched the bag.

Flash.

Blind.

Not seeing things for what they actually were,  stole and slaughtered his patience. His was senseless.

The only feeling he was getting, was the teardrop, begging to run away.

It ran. And left, just like he wished everything else would.

Time ran too. The clock he glanced up at was at 4:30 pm. He'd screwed up. 

But it was better now than later on when he would be trapped in a symphony of not only his feelings but the potential bliss of hers too.

However now, he was gone.

Flash.