Short Story: Dear Sam’s Diary

Dear Sam’s Diary
January 3rd, 2:15 pm
It was scary taking this from her bag, not even sure why I did it. Hope she misses it, at least a little. Writing in this feels weird, writing in you feels weird. Hi Sam. It’s like she can hear me, my words next to hers. Going to open her Christmas present now.
Yahoo answers was right, for once. Running it under cold water does stop the bleeding. Fuck, should have guessed she made me a CD. Why not a USB drive? Sam’s so old school. So retro. I thought it would be a video. A recording. Like of David Mr. Brightsiding her at his gym then blowing his load over the camera lens. Fuck, I’m disgusting. She always said so. I should have been cleaner. It’s okay though. No one is going to read this anyway. Why did she burn those songs? Was she trying to tell me something? She burned it before Christmas. Before they were, and not when we were still…must not think about it. Dear Sam’s diary, when it got to that track, a ‘kiss with a fist’ I broke the CD in two, cut hand but the breaking and the cut felt good. Maybe one day I’ll give this back to Sam. Maybe we’ll be back together again then. A kiss with a fist while she’s having sex with a boxer. Be right back Sam’s diary. Going to cry now.
January 5th 4:22 PM
Dear Sam’s Diary,
Sam wrote in you every day. I can’t even commit to that. I read your previous entries and realized your creator was fucking David on Christmas eve when she was ‘too sick’ to come over. Shouldn’t have bothered cleaning the apartment up. Shoulda kept the receipt for her headphones. Ripping out your creator’s earlier pages felt good. Then it felt guilty. Still, you’re my diary now. Nope, my JOURNAL, sounds more manly. Fuck I miss her so much. Won’t burn her previous pages out of respect. Bet it would feel great though. Maybe one day I’ll read this back and laugh and hopefully not think I am a fucking psychopath. LOL. Time for vodka.
January 9th 2:10 PM
Need to wake up and change. No more drinking. Today let’s try being sober.
January 12th 3 something PM
No more. Really got to stop. Headaches are hurting less even though drinking more. Bad sign I think.
January 12th 7:51 PM
Mom came over and threw away vodka. Should not have yelled at her.
I want to forget. I want to stop feeling like he’s more of a man than me. Want to stop wondering why and counting the ways I’m not good enough.
Had a dream where I get her back. I fought David and won. Maybe I can train, become stronger and she’ll love me again.
I didn’t last more than thirteen minutes. Running is hard. Every bit counts though, said the old lady as she pissed into the sea. I can be as fit as David. I am taller technically. He’s got muscle, but I can build cardio. Last longer. 
Dear Sam’s diary,
I miss her, specifically I miss listening to the same music on the couch together, and I miss watching her dance- if I danced with her more, she might have stayed longer, I should have danced with her more. She was so much fun. Fuck. I wish she’d written on scented paper at least. Raimi has a friend he wants to introduce me to. I bet she’s nothing like Sam. Bet she dances as badly as I do. Hope she’s hot. Feel so low. Should have something to drink but I promised myself. Bet I break it soon. What’s the point in a promise to me? Bet Sam would know what to say to make me go out. She’d tell me I was amazing and clever and would tease me about being a geek. Maybe I can pretend she’s here now. Telling me all these things. If I just lay down and close my eyes I could picture her. Why not?
Didn’t work. Date’s tomorrow. So scared. Maybe should follow Raimi’s advice and jerk off right before. And better memorize those jokes from Reddit.
Woke up next to her. Then woke up properly. Dreams are evil. Jennifer didn’t even laugh at my joke about the whales in the bar. Felt like an asshole. She’s nothing like Sam, she’s so quiet and after I ran out of memorized jokes I was so boring. Pretty hot though. Checked her facebook, found what kinda movies she likes. Maybe she’ll come over and watch something she likes with me. Probably not. She did talk about her gym. What is it with people and exercise? Pointless moving your body till it breaks. Wonder if its the same gym David learned to fight at. 
Can’t even commit to writing in you. Pathetic. At the arcade I lied to Jason about why I started using that boxing character. Feel bad about lying. Couldn’t tell Jason that I’m learning new combos because David is a boxer and Sam’s now with him and if I could fight like him maybe she’ll want me back and since I’m as fit as a weed playing with my joystick is the next best thing. I don’t know. Sam always said I should play less games, should be more constructive. Sam always told people how good yoga was. I’ll never be with someone that limber again. Fuck. I bet that’s how they met. I bet he hit on her whilst she was doing yoga. What if I was a real fighter, like David?
I don’t think it counts as drunk texting if I’ve only had three drinks. Dear Sam’s diary your creator does not give straight answers. I texted her what he has that I don’t and she said some cryptic bullshit about passion and character. If I learned to fight like him, if I beat him then she’ll see I’m better because I’ll be like him but also with all the stuff that she liked about me as well. I think it was really mean of Raimi to tell me my idea was ‘fucking retarded’ even though he apologized after. First step is just need to get up and run, and work out. I can do this. Just got to read some quotes online first.
Ran for eighteen whole minutes without stopping today. Okay more like jogging. Afterwards high on endorphins texted David ‘I’m coming for you asshole’. He texted back: ‘Sam has a beautiful back.’ I don’t get it.
I just got it. Feel really sick now. What am I doing?
All I have to do is join the gym but It’ll cost most of my going out fund. I’ll probably not even go. They have a boxing class. Maybe I should go, just to see what it’s like to be a David. All the David’s of the goddamn world. I’ll never be a David. I’ve been hating him but the truth is I just wish I was like that. I won’t be into geeky shit, I’ll just be some player dickhead, a PUA, just got to read more about it online. Excuses. That class in one week. Maybe I could do one class. 
Class hurt. The pain, the ache. But it was mine. Raimi laughed, said it would be hilarious if I began boxing. He said if I did it he’d bet on every fight. Made me mad. Maybe I could do it, one day. No way. Sam’s right, I’m going nowhere slowly.
Would have been our three year today. Sam’s apparently moved on from David to one of his friends. I can’t even be better than David anymore. No more reasons left to go to the gym, no one to do it for, except me. And what am I? Maybe David feels like shit too. Maybe I should send him Sam’s diary and he’ll get all of this and understand I’m not a loser.
I put down the diary, careful not to let the cover touch my perspiration soaked legs. Vision and sound returned then; of the dozens of people laughing, talking, some shouting; of the announcer doing another mic check; of the way the floor of the ring creaked underneath my aching body; and of my friend yelling something at me from beyond the ropes, his hand grabbing my right arm: “Yo, come on, hey- halftime is almost over. Come on man, don’t get down now- don’t get distracted, this guy’s Mike Lee, Mike Lee! He’ll be able to tell if you’re getting tired.”
“Doesn’t matter what his name is.”
“What was that man?”
I push one gloved hand through the ropes, use it for leverage and balance as I turn to face him.
“I’m not out yet, and I’m not feeling down. You though, seem just a little nervous.”
“No way man, I’m just pumped, I feel like you’re going to win this one. I just know it. You’re doing an Ali right? Tiring him out!”
“Ali. No. More like…what was that characters name, the one from the old game we used to play, the one from the arcade…” I reach for the journal, try to open it with the gloves on.
“Hey, hey! What are you doing? Stop reading man. Why do you always bring that thing? I swear it’s bad luck. Maybe if you ditched it Renee will call back and I might actually win one of these bets.”
“I’m not calling her again. We didn’t click.”
“Seriously? What happened? She was really hot!”
 “Not my type, she was pretty judgmental. Thinks video games are for loser. They’ll be others. I’ll meet someone else.”
“I guess. But how about you indulge my superstitious nature and let me take the book…” He reaches and I pull it away.
He says: “Come on man what is that thing?”
“It’s a training manual Raimi. A record of who I was, and how far I’ve come.” 
“Okay, okay. Look they are going to start soon. Get your ass up and kick his. Shit. I don’t know why I ever said I’d bet on you. You’ve lost the last five fights in a row.”
I roll onto my feet, raise myself up. In the other corner my opponent punches the air, aims a glare at me. He flexes. I don’t. This part, right here, right before we go at it, this is the best fear. I feel the electricity in my veins, the purity of the challenge- I can see my enemy clearly, 190 pounds and only human. 
Raimi shouts: “GO MAN GO, NO LOSS TODAY!”
“You don’t get it.” I say, over my shoulder, down at my waiting friend: “I’ve already won.”
And then I turn and fight.

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