Dive: A TharnType Story

36

Tharn somehow made it back home, lost in thought about the situation he currently found himself in. His relationship was a sham, the only thing keeping him in it was his stupid, guilty nature and now he had discovered that, the entire time, he had very real feelings for his oldest friend. 

He dropped his backpack on the carpet and once again fell into his couch, not finding enough strength to make it to his bedroom. He curled into a fetal position and stared at the empty wall, wishing his mind could be just as empty at the moment because the onslaught of emotions was tiring him to a point where he couldn't distinguish one from the other. They were just a jumbled mess, making him feel a paradoxical amount of numbness and pain. 

He hugged his knees closer to his body as he tried to line up the events that had escalated to his current predicament. He knew his friendship with Type had always been special to him but he couldn't figure out when things changed for him, or if it was always this way. He shook that thought when he remembered Pina. He loved her. Truly loved her. He never had it in him to cheat on someone he was dating, even emotionally, because the guilt of it would kill him, so he figured it happened somewhere after their breakup. 

He remembered how Type stayed by his side for a whole month after the fiasco with Pina and wondered if that was the catalyst. He tried to wrack his brain to remember everything that happened in that month, but nothing jumped out to him. He just recalled practically living on the same couch he was currently lying in throughout that time period till the day Type dragged him out to a bar that fateful night. He widened his eyes, remembering that was the first night he had slept in his room, but what followed after discovering he had slept with Type was pure chaos. Type had told him about the reason for his hasty departure and the pain that Tharn had felt when he heard what Type had been living with for years. He remembered how his heart shattered into a million pieces to think that the Type who he saw as his saviour and his only friend when they were children, had gone through something so heartbreaking. The trauma that Type had experienced is something no one should have to live through.

Tharn recalled their childhood and how Type was instrumental in him figuring out he liked guys early on in life because, when he looked back on their time together, he knew what he felt for Type was more than friendship. Type had been nothing but a beacon of light in his life, saving him from his lonely childhood and helping him discover something so crucial to his identity when he was younger. 

He remembered how inconsolable he was for the next few years after Type left without a word and he couldn't get in touch with him. He figured that's when he had moved on from Type. All those years apart had probably healed his heart. 

His phone rang, breaking him from his thoughts and his breath caught in his throat, wondering if it was Type calling. He straightened his leg and reached for the phone in his pocket and winced when he saw the name flashing on the screen. 

Dinh. He wasn't in the place to talk to him so he put his phone on silent and ignored his call. He had enough on his plate to deal with at the moment so he figured he'd deal with the consequences of ignoring him when he wasn't having a literal breakdown. He tossed his phone on the far side of the couch and curled up into a ball again.

His mind went back to the image of Type smiling at Kemp earlier in the day and he felt his chest tighten painfully. He couldn't for the life of him figure out when his feelings for Type reignited. He didn't see any moment that stuck out to him. Being around Type just made him happy and comfortable throughout. He was sceptical about them getting along in the beginning because of how much time had passed since they last saw each other, but things had gone back to the way they were when they were kids pretty smoothly. Being friends with Type was as easy as breathing for him. Not seeing him for the past month or so had made him feel really uncomfortable, like he was missing a piece of himself. He straightened himself and stared at the ceiling when he realised why he felt that way. It wasn't the friendship that was easy as breathing, Type was the air he needed in his lungs. The realisation brought with it a familiar sting behind his eyes.