Your name is Dave Strider, you are thirty years old, and the clock is ticking.
It ticks away every second, clicking on your wall and echoing in your ears. It feels as if time is running slower - every day a year. And you know you were only designed for so long, you are meant for an expiration date, but with each second slowly, slowly ticking, it feels like you're too far gone.
You feel much too old for your age. You wonder vaguely if it's because of the layers upon layers of yourself that ultimately became one when you returned from that horrible game. You wonder if it's because you've missed your chance for whatever it was that was supposed to make adult life bearable, so you've just skipped right past middle-age. You wonder if this is the feeling of having not spoken to your best friend, the love of your life, your mentally-adopted daughter - in months. You can't really tell these days - you're just weak and tired, and that's exactly what a Strider should never be.
You almost don't even notice that with more seconds ticked by, you're thirty-one years old.
That is, until your phone is vibrating on your desk, and you stare at the caller ID bleary-eyed. You deleted the number in a fit of frustration, too many hits and too much temptation, but you'd recognize it any day - it's John.
You wonder for a moment why he's calling, what with how long you've not spoken. John tried to keep it up, but you weren't hearing a word of it, and did your best to cut everything off. Eventually, you guess he just stopped trying. Rose keeps you updated on how he's doing though, which makes the absence of the man you love more than anything a bit more bearable (you aren't sure if bearable is even what you can classify it as at this point).
You debate between whether you should even answer it for some time, before the temptation becomes too great and you pick up the phone. "Yo," you say, your throat rough from the past few nights of drinking, although you're surprisingly sober this evening.
"Oh! Hey Dave! I uh… I didn't think you'd answer."
You want to scream that of course you answered, that you miss him like hell and that every moment you're thinking of new things to say to him but you had to delete his number just so you couldn't give up and text him. Sure you have the number memorized, but dialing it gives you enough time to stop yourself halfway through.
"Yeah," is all you say though, the word like a croak. "What's up though?" You're trying to keep it casual even though your skin is falling off of you.
"I wanted to wish you a happy birthday right at midnight, hehe!" he chuckles, seemingly very nervous but also… excited. You guess that makes sense, after all he was… is your best friend. That's normal.
Still, you smile, the dead animal of a heart inside your chest beating along with it. "Thanks, man," you respond warmly, adjusting your position in your chair. "You been doin' a'ight?" It feels so forced and so out-of-place, especially when you've tried so hard to limit yourself, and yet here you are, acting like nothing more than old friends separated by new lives. You think that phrase would apply more if you were friends even, and if you had anything near a new life.
"Y-yeah! I'm good, I'm good, haha…" he says, a tone to his voice as if there's more he's searching for to say, not wanting it to simply fall to simple smalltalk.
But that's all there is, and it both pains and comforts you that you've made it to that point, because that was exactly what you were going for. A part of you thinks it's not because of the time, or anything like that, but rather because there's something blocking him, but another part of you thinks that's better left untouched.
So you just let yourself smile once more, before you take in a breath and tell him, "Thanks for the happy birthday though, bro. Have a good night."
"Dave, I, wait—" But you're clicking the end call button too soon, hearing the tell-tale beeping in your ear.
— tentacleTherapist [TT] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG] at 00:06 —
TT: Happy birthday, Mr. Strider.
TG: thanks
TT: So you answered John?
TG: yeah
TT: I'm proud. Does that mean you think you're making progress?
TG: fuck no
TT: In pieces again?
TG: yhea
TT: I don't think this plan you had is going as well as you'd hoped.
TG: well you said johns klo
TG: ok
TT: Yeah.
TT: About that.
TG: what
TT: …I'm sworn to secrecy but.
TT: I've had enough of this.
tentacleTherapist [TT] pasted:
"EB: it's not working rose.
TT: What isn't?
EB: i don't know. just.
EB: all of this.
TT: Do you mean the Molly ordeal?
EB: yeah… i guess that's what you'd call it?
EB: or is it the dave ordeal?
EB: i don't know.
TT: It's fairly clear that you lack knowledge on the subject matter.
TT: And although I hate to sound too stereotypical: how do you feel on it?
EB: i feel… like everything's messed up.
EB: like i took a wrong turn, or something?
EB: i don't know when though.
TT: We're getting somewhere.
EB: and like
EB: things haven't been good with molly for too long. it's been what, over a year?
EB: things just… aren't the same.
TT: And what about Dave?
EB: i.
EB: i don't know.
EB: i think i love him too. but i still care a lot about molly.
TT: But are you in love with her?
EB: i think so. it's just.
TT: Not the same, you've said.
EB: yeah.
TT: May I offer my advice on the subject?
EB: well that's why i'm here hehe.
TT: Have you ever heard the quote, "If you love two people at the same time, choose the second one, because if you really loved the first one you wouldn't have fallen for the second"?
EB: no i haven't.
EB: well, hadn't.
EB: but i guess it's a good point…
TT: No decisions. Just think on it.
EB: yeah."
TG: so whats your point
TT: My point is that that conversation was yesterday.
TG: shit
TT: You realize the complications and obstacles better than anyone, and I am sure you will make the right choice.
TT: But in the long run, my advice would be, if I may be so frank:
TT: Go get 'im, tiger.