All Chapters of a drink we call loneliness: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

SamMissing Theo is terrible. I don't know how I lived before him when it was only me on this empty flat and he wasn't here to make me laugh or ask curious questions about my job. His absence becomes more and more painful as the weeks have drifted by. I try to keep myself busy during the day at work, I even stay longer or take up the weekend shifts to avoid coming home to an empty flat. My boss thinks I've become obsessed with work, but I'm just trying to pass the time.I wonder when I became so dependent on him because I remember feeling perfectly fine on my own before I met him. It's not healthy, but it is what it is, and now I feel like i might need to see my therapist again because it scares me to feel this way like I might stop breathing If I don't know where he is for a full day.Right now, I’m getting ready for yet another overnight shift when there’s a knock at the door. It’s the landlord, I can tell by the familiar knock. He always kno

 Theo Argentina is cold this time of the year, and It somehow makes the town feel comforting and familiar.  In the past few days, I've learned so much about their culture and food, that for a while it gets hard to believe England is all I have ever known. I love my country, and I can't deny its traditions are some of my favourite bits, but it's fun to see the way other people live. I wish I could see the world through Sam's eyes. I bet it would be even more fun, seeing him discover the world while I hold his hand. I hope someday I get to do just that, explore a coastal town hanging off his arm. For now, I have to settle for walking alone and thinking of him until I video call him once he's home, defeated from the day. He's always eager to see me, even if he's had a long shift. When I was staying at his place, he was always so easy to rile up when he was getting in bed after a night shift. I don't know what's that about, or why they made him

TheoMy aunt Ivy calls when I'm in the middle of a summit in New York. Now that I've worked my way up the continent, my bag is full of colourful knickknacks from the richest cultures I've seen yet. I panic a little, because she never calls directly, or picks up her phone.She's one of those people who avoid their phone until it's a necessary emergency, so I can't help but feel bile rising to my throat when I see her name on my screen, flashing like an omen. I leave my seat as smoothly as I can and grab my paper cup just to have something to fiddle with.My therapist says it's a big part of my anxiety, finding ways to release my tension, and although I'm really good at hiding it because of my upbringing, it's there. It's hard for me to give in to the urge to fidget because of how many times my hands or legs were slapped with a ruler as a kid. My mum never participated in this, since she passed away before I had to take all these lessons, and my father was too bus

SamA week after our fight, right before Halloween, Theo flies home. I've been way too busy all week to plan proper dates, but then again, he's going to be here for three days, so it's not like we'll have much time. We made a joint decision to not tell his family so we could make the most of these few days. In some ways, it feels like we're trying to fix something, although I can't quite put my finger on what's exactly broken.I worked double shifts last week and this one so I could take the whole weekend, Friday included off. I haven't taken days off in ages, I can't remember what I used to do in my spare time besides cooking and sleeping all day. I rush through Thursday's shift, get the paperwork done nice and early so Grace doesn't get stuck here with it while seeing patients. I think she'll be fine since she's shown me she's perfectly capable of running things on her own, but I don't want to give her more than it's humanly possible. Especially since she offered to

Theo I'm still at the table, picking up our containers and setting them on the stove when he is back in the room, with his shoes on and his work ID hanging around his neck. He walks around me and hugs me from behind. I feel his face buried in the back of my neck. "I'm sorry, I truly am. I'll be back later tonight. It's only six. I'll be back before midnight, promise." I roll my eyes because I know he can't see me. I understand his motives, and I feel sorry for the goat that's there in Swindon, but I hate him at the same time. "So much for a whole weekend together," I say bitterly, but lean back into him. "I understand. You have every right to be upset. I'm an idiot. I accounted for everything at the clinic except for the fact that Gracie isn't trained on livestock at all. I'm sorry, love," he says as he places his cheek against my back. I twist in his arms so he can see me, and then I step back, freeing myself from his arms. "I