Hey y'all! Remember me? Another reminder for those of you who haven't switched over to my Wordpress yet, where this story is posted in its entirety. If you haven't read it yet, I hope you enjoy it, enough to drop me a line or two. I hope you all had a very happy new year =]

April 1999-June 2004

As clichéd as it sounded to say this, Sookie took a part of me with her when she left. I'd spent so long being half of a whole, with her, loving her and being loved, that in her absence I found myself floundering for something to be. I'd spent so long defining myself – in part – by what she'd made me, that I was no longer sure what I was without her presence.
That, and I still loved her. Desperately, deep-in-my-soul loved her. We'd cut all forms of communications, relying on our friends to keep us updated on how the other was doing. I tried being optimistic, because I had so much to be happy about, but there were nights when I'd crawl into bed, feeling like the most insignificant fuck in the universe because the girl I loved was no longer mine.

Sookie left – I tried not to say "left me" because it sounded just too angsty – in April. The summer was spent job searching and trying to start my real life, the life free of midterms and assignments and projects. I dated, occasionally, which translated to a string of one-night stands whenever I felt like catering to my needs with something other than porn and my right hand. I moved into an apartment with a roommate, and bought a piece of shit car to get me by. Thanksgiving and Christmas were spent with the couple brigade I'd once been a part of, since my parents were going on a Caribbean cruise and Pam was in Aspen with a girlfriend, and nobody else had family near LA. I welcomed the new millennium with feigned enthusiasm that year, fully aware of how careful an eye my friends were keeping on me. I did receive a Christmas card from Sookie though, which was intended to be a thoughtful gesture but ended up making me even more acutely aware of where she should have been, in LA, instead of where she was.

That January, Alcide and I put on matching tuxes and stood by Tray's side as he married Amelia, the composed smile on his face masking the utter joy evident in his eyes. I met her in August, at a coffee shop that would later be remodeled into a Starbucks, standing in line for her triple caramel macchiato. She shot me a sideways look, smiled, and looked down at her sandals, scuffing her feet on the tile. She was beautiful, with a mess of curly blonde hair that reached her waist and dressed in a Bohemian-looking dress that wafted as she moved up the line. I waited until she had ordered before talking to her, and she ended up giving me her number, scrawling it on my cup with a felt pen she borrowed from the barista.

"Resourceful," I laughed.

"Cute Coffee Guy asks you for your number, you find a way." She grinned back.

"Cute Coffee Guy, huh?"

"I may have seen you here once or twice," Thalia blushed, ever so slightly, and I noticed the perfect lines of her lips.

"So you're saying it took me long enough?"

"Exactly."

We took things slow, since whenever we would take a step forward I would find myself plagued with thoughts of Sookie and how effortless it had been, being with her. We'd become inseparable within a few short days thanks to our close proximity and our incredible mutual attraction. With Thalia, as beautiful and funny as she was, there were always things to work around, but I figured that was good. That was how adults went about relationships, right? They worked around each other's schedule and held hands walking down the street and didn't sneak into side alleys to kiss because they couldn't keep their hands off of each other.

Instead, we went out for dinner a few times, kissing but nothing more for over a month, both of us content with the pace. The first time I slept over was great, and afterwards we made breakfast in our underwear before going right back to bed. It felt different with her; my relationship with Sookie had been so much lighter, so carefree, while with Thalia every step felt like something significant, like the difference between walking in a kiddie pool and wading through the ocean. Thalia required so much more of me, where with Sookie I had just given her everything without a second thought, and I decided that was how things were supposed to be.

Adults didn't share earth-shaking kisses or stay up all night thinking about each other; adults only made plans on weekends and toned down the affection so as to not be inappropriate in public. And, I couldn't be hung up on Sookie forever.

And I loved Thalia. After a few months, I decided she was it, and somehow she felt the same way. I introduced her to Sookie about a year into our relationship, when she was in town visiting, and Sookie had given me a sad look before shaking Thalia's hand. Meanwhile, Thalia had given me a look like she knew exactly what I hadn't told her, that Sookie and I shared a history, and had proceeded to be perfectly polite to my ex. I had no idea what Sookie's look had meant; we'd been separated for over two years. She was living close to her Gran, from what I'd been told, taking care of her in lieu of Jason who was always a bit too self-centered to step up and do the same. As far as I knew, she was happy, so the look only served to confuse me. That, and I'd always figured she would be the one to move on first, once her decision was made. Not that she loved me any less, but I'd assumed Sookie was pragmatic enough to accept that getting over me was inevitable, and so I'd scrambled to keep up with her perceived ease in moving on. Still, I wrote off Sookie's look as a momentary lapse, the kind people experience when they see their ex with somebody else, and not as a sign that she was still hung up on me.

Three years later, she RSVP'd yes to my wedding and showed up with a date, some guy with sideburns and the seeming inability to smile. It was so warm that day in early June, though not as warm as I was sure it would get in just a few weeks. We got married at night, outdoors at this amazing little event centre owned by one of Thalia's friends. It was in essence an oversized deck on the beach, lit by tastefully-strewn Christmas lights and low tables and cushions instead of the traditional chairs and circular tables. Thalia had looked beautiful, as we stood under the little archway of vines and more Christmas lights, and said our vows with our eyes locked. I couldn't stop smiling the whole time, and when we kissed she squeezed my hand and whispered she loved me. Afterwards, as we did our rounds and thanked our guests, Sookie had hugged me and wished me all the happiness in the world, giving Thalia a brilliant smile and sincere well wishes that Thalia had returned less than enthusiastically. That had made Sookie's smile falter, and she'd looked at me with an inquisitive look, as if wondering what exactly I was doing, getting married to someone who wasn't her. But that had gone away before I could give it too much thought and Sookie's date had led her away, leaving me with my new wife. I'd watched her all night, entranced by her very presence there, in a place where she used to belong, with us. She'd talked and laughed with our friends and danced with her date and kissed my cheek goodnight along with Maria and Amelia when Thalia and I made to leave, and on our way to the hotel I found myself thinking about her, about us, and how we used to be. I brushed those thoughts aside, however, as we reached the honeymoon suite I'd booked for us and my wife led me to the bed with a serene look on her face and I let myself be happily distracted.

My life had seemed so perfect back then.

Except, despite all my beliefs, Thalia hadn't been as flawless as I'd always thought; there was a part of her that I never got to become a part of, a partition I never got past. A part of her heart that was never mine, but one she gave willingly to William Compton.