I woke up, alone in my van, feeling like shit and absolutely heartbroken. It's dark out, still early, not even sunrise yet, and the forest outside is still sleeping. I wish I was still sleeping, then I wouldn't have to deal with this. I get up, using the toilet and plopping myself down in my desk chair - the same chair that Gwendolyn sat in a few days ago as I ate her out. Fuck, I don't want to think of that right now.
She LIED to me. LIED TO ME. She had a boyfriend, because there's no other fucking way to explain what that behavior could have been, and she didn't tell me. She led me along, thinking that I was her girlfriend and she was mine, and we fucked so many times and it was so much fun and NO, STOP. I should see if she texted me.
Before I have a chance to second-guess myself, I go find where my phone had been thrown the night before, powering it on, seeing a wave of text messages from Gwendolyn, asking if I'm okay, asking if we can talk, saying she needs to explain something. Fuck, this was a mistake. The wound is still too raw, it feels like my heart has been stabbed all over again, reading the texts from the woman I love. Woah, wait a second. Love? UGH. I've known her for two weeks. Why would I say that?
Because it's true?
I break down into tears again, knowing that my heart isn't lying to me. It's stupid, it's crazy, it's way too fucking fast, but it's also not wrong. It's time to do something self-destructive. Because that's what adults do in times like this, right? Right.
"Not interested in what you have to say. Go tell it to your boyfriend. I'm sorry I thought I loved you. Bye."
I power the phone back off. That'll show her, I sob to myself as I curl into a ball in my chair, tears streaking down my face. I drift off to sleep for a little, waking as the sun rises and the birds start chirping. It's time to begin the second part of my self-destructive plan, and I throw on my frumpy underwear, a sports bra, and my riding clothes, my face twisted into a painful grin as I smile at the GoPro in my usual ritual.
"Hey chat, it's me, Tiffany. Ha, ha. There is no chat, it's just me. Sad and fucking lonely, making videos for myself. Anyway, it's time to go something incredibly stupid and dangerous. Let's ride!"
See? I can be mature. This is a totally mature way to handle my emotions.
Said no one. Ever.
I clipped my feet into the bike and set out, not even bothering with the bike computer to track a path. I wasn't sure where I was, nor what trails were nearby, but I knew I could find some trouble if I just looked hard enough. I started pedaling faster, blowing past a crowd of people gearing up on the other side of the clearing, my bike a purple blur as I cut them off, beating them to the trail head, angry shouts chasing me up the mountain.
Losers. Not my fault you were too slow to get out of my way.
I punished myself, legs driving hard as I climbed and climbed up the ridge lines, endless switchbacks as I came out of the valley and paused for a second, staring down, thousands of feet below, to where I'd come from. Every burning pedal stroke was a scream of pain, a middle finger pointed at the sky, screaming in rage and pain at Gwendolyn's betrayal. Somewhere down there was my van. Did it matter where? Was I going to go back to it?
Or was I going to have another accident on a technical descent?
And did it even matter?
"Hey, haven't seen you around before," a voice came from behind me and I almost fell over, startled. I turned, an angry growl on my face, to see a pack of four riders having just reached the mountain top nearby, one waving at me. It looked like a pair of happy couples. Well, fuck them for being happy.
"Yeah, and you probably won't again," I growled, turning and picking a route at random as I threw my bike down the mountain, rear wheel sliding dangerously across the granite as I tried to stabilize the bike. This fucking body did not react the same way as the old one, and the bike was just too twitchy. Roaring with frustration, I hopped a downed branch and misjudged the next switchback, very nearly going over the side before I slammed the brakes, gasping for breath. My front wheel had bent, the tire blowing out, and I stepped from the bike, my chest heaving, as I fought the urge to vomit as I unclipped my helmet and dropped it to my feet.
Okay, Tiffany. I know you're angry at Gwendolyn, but do we really want to die again?
No, replied a quiet voice. It was timid. It was hurting. But it was soft and feminine in a way that I didn't know I had inside me.
Fuck. She was right. I didn't want to die again. I was going to have to granny ride this whole fucking mountain back down to my van, since I was in over my head.
It's not fair, I yelled back at the voice in my head. She should have told me she had a boyfriend!
Yes, but you should have told her that you used to be Tim, she replied. I squirmed uncomfortably, the truth inescapable no matter how much I didn't like it.
"Are you okay?" I turned, seeing the quartet of riders slowing to a stop, taking in my appearance. I must look like the biggest fucking idiot on the mountain right now. One of the women took her helmet off, an expression of concern on her face as she gazed at me. She looked to be in her 30s and pretty, but that barely registered compared to the worry she was radiating as she took stock of my situation.
"Yeah, I - I was being stupid. I had a fight with my girlfriend and I thought I'd do something dumb. I'm better now, though. Even if I am going to have to walk back to my van." Did I just admit that to total strangers? Who the hell am I?
The woman turned to her friends, "You guys go ahead a bit. I'll catch up." They nodded and rode off down the trail a bit, leaving the two of us alone as she walked over, placing a hand on my arm. "Hon, I know how it feels. I've been there. Are you okay?" Her eyes stared into mine, almost like she was trying to read my mind, and I started to sob. She hugged me. A total fucking stranger hugged me while I cried on the side of a mountain.
Eventually, I stopped crying and shifted to sniffling, because that's how we know that I've got my shit together. I nodded. "I'll be okay. I don't want to do anything stupid anymore. I'll just walk back to my van, delete Gwendolyn's number from my phone, and pick the pieces of my heart back up." She gave me a funny look at that statement, but let me continue rambling. "I promise, I'll be fine. Thank you and I'm sorry for crying all over your jersey."
She smiled at me and rubbed my shoulder, "It's okay, hon. If you want, I can have one of the boys go fetch a spare wheel for you and ride it back up? Where'd you park?"
I shook my head, not wanting them to go to the trouble for me. "No, it's fine. Walking will help me clear my head, and I don't mind. I, uh, I don't remember where I parked. I was kind out of it this morning. There was a big parking lot and I rode past a bunch of people gearing up for a ride around sunset, then hit this relentless set of switchbacks on the way up."
"Ah, yep. I know just the place. Someone pinged about an angry purple rider in our group chat." I blushed, nodding bashfully. She gave me directions for how to get back to my van and then looked me over one last time. "What was your name again?"
"Tiffany, sorry. Thank you so much."
"Nice to meet you, Tiffany. I'm Rebecca. I hope to see you around more, I help organize group rides at Bend Cycle Shop a few times a week. If you ever need company, just ask Greg and he can give you the details."
I chuckled ruefully, "Yeah, I've met Greg. Nice guy, really good eye for tits."
She smirked, glancing at my chest, and nodded, squeezing my shoulder. "That's him, but he's harmless. We ride Tuesday, Thursdays, and Saturdays. Swing by the shop or text him if you want in, but no pressure. Anyway, I need to catch up with my husband. Stay safe, Tiffany. There are always people who care about you, even if you can't see it in the moment."
"Thanks," I said, feeling grateful for her intervention, watching as she clipped in, glancing back once at me, a soft smile on her face, worried eyes shining, and disappears down the switchback. I watch her go and realize I just met my first friend who wasn't trying to fire me or fuck me. So this is what it's like, I wonder to myself.
Sighing, I slung my helmet over the handlebars, picked my bike up, and began the long trek back down to my van. This was going to take all day, but it was fine. I didn't have anything else that needed to get done today, right? Tuesdays are for long walks in the mountains, not work. Shit. Frank was gonna be pissed I got nothing done today. Oh well.