What hurts the most

Was being so close

And having so much to say

And watching you walk away

And never knowing

What could have been

And not seeing that loving you

Is what I was trying to do

Another shot of whiskey, another night spent alone just like the rest. He'd tried, so very hard, to not let himself fall for her. He'd tried to ignore the nagging feeling he had that he was getting in too deep. In all the time he had known Christine, she had steadfastly avoided relationships. She was good at sex - hell, he knew that first hand - but that's all he ever knew of her doing with people. No inviting them back for a relationship. No dates that were anything but the precursor to sex.

He'd stopped himself for as long as he could do but their last time together had just meant something more to him. It wasn't an encounter born out of alcohol or even life-saving necessity like their encounter courtesy of the sex pollen. This time it had been a mutual choice of two people, in sound mind, to be intimate. To him, it meant something. To her? It was just another fuck to add to the others between them.

He wouldn't - couldn't - deny that sex with her felt incredible. Now he questioned why in ways he hadn't done before. Did it feel so good because of his emotional connection to her? Did he enjoy her touch as much as he did because of how he had fallen for her?

Crawling into bed he closed his eyes tightly, commanding the computer to shut the lights out. He'd lay there, in his empty bed, feeling as lonely as he did so every other night he spent there. He cared for her. He knew it wasn't love - but it could be. He knew it could be. Until now, until he had opened himself up to disaster he had felt so comfortable around her. Her smile lit up the room and was terribly infectious. The way she laughed, the way she carried herself, the brightness of her eyes when she was in a good mood; he had it all saved to memory and he knew now why. Because he was falling faster than a shooting star in the nights sky.

Falling for a woman that would never fall for him. Why he was such a glutton for punishment, he didn't know.

An asshole. That was what he knew she thought of him right now after their argument and truth be told, he preferred that. He'd rather she thought him an asshole than gave him her pity. He didn't need pity. He didn't need to feel any more like a disaster than he already did. He could handle her avoidance of him too if he annoyed her enough far better than he would be able to handle her constant presence.

Working with her wasn't going to be easy, he knew that. He also knew he'd been through so much worse than this before and had to simply man up and get through to the other side, like he had done before. His feelings would waver in time. He'd feel more comfortable and maybe, hopefully, they would regain that comfort with each other that he had enjoyed so much before his mistake of asking her for a date.

Lesson learned.

Despite learning his lesson, it didn't take away the pain. The hurt and embarrassment he felt. All he'd wanted was to be different for her. To be someone she too could feel and care for, just as he cared for her. He believed they could have been good together. Intense, definitely. But he thrived on that. No relationship in his past had been anything less than intense. He knew she could match him in temper, in temperament and determination. The arguments would have been epic, yet the making up even more so. He knew they could have been good together. Which is what hurt him the most. Knowing what a lost opportunity it was for the two of them to be happy.

For now, he'd have to be content with a glass of whiskey and an empty bed. He'd have to find happiness in the emptiness.