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"Goodnight, Tater."
Those were the last words Tater heard from her lover before watching her shift through the covers, facing toward the wall. Tater watched with anticipation. Her breath held in her throat as she listened to the quiet sighs releasing from Frite's lips.
Her eyebrows furrowed with a freckle of frustration. Frite shifting her focus on sleep made Tater feel unwanted. Unneeded. Couldn't they cuddle to sleep? Tater herself wasn't a fan of the heat trapping her in the night when the two huddled close. Especially when Frite was a good size taller than her.
Yet somehow the frustration lingered until it fizzled into disappointment. Tater stared at her back. Frite's soft dark brown hair spread out on her pillow like a lake spilling into an ocean, her sides slowly rising and falling, along with her nearly silent snores were enough to make Tater's chest churn. The ache in her body began to sprout the longer her eyes flickered around her figure.
Her eyes stung with anxiety. Or was it envy? How someone could fall asleep so peacefully without confusion or self-consciousness of their entire life?
Tater felt the warmth of her tears slide down her cheeks. All she could think of was Frite keeping that secret. Frite being rich wasn't even her concern anymore. Although, yes, it would be pretty nice to have a girlfriend with a lot of money, it wasn't like she hated her job so much she wanted to quit to rely on her.
It was just learning that she was so much more than how she seemed. She was a Duchess. She had a line of success. Frite had a future and she threw it away. Her life, her relationship status, her bank account, and all of it was more than what Tater could have ever imagined.
It didn't matter that Frite didn't want it. It mattered that now she was more than just a lover. She felt more like competition. Tater hated thinking of the nooks and crannies of it because it reminded her of how miserable she was. Tater wasn't a Duchess, she'd be lucky if anyone even acknowledged her at all.
She threw herself at people for opportunities to even be recognized.
Her ex was just the scratched surface. How was Frite's romantic life? Had she ever gone out with girls with pretty hair and pretty makeup that made their eyes stand out? Did they always have the money to pay for dinners or was Frite always such a gentleman?
How many girls proved themselves worthy to Frite? Was she doing the same or was she making herself out to be a fool? Could she have just been lucky that Frite was single when she was?
Tater couldn't fight back her painful sobs. Her lips parted open uncontrollably. With a quick attempt to shut herself up, she slipped her hand up from underneath her blanket to cover her mouth. Tater's tiny squeaks of sorrow went unheard by Frite, who still remained calmly asleep only a foot or so away.
Tater knew she was selfish. She was selfish each time they were alone and all she could think was of how Frite is so much better and happier than she is. Frite had a title. Frite was naturally pretty, especially in her custom made potato uniform she wore on a daily basis.
Frite knew when to apologize and knew when to tell Tater the truth. She told it sooner that Tater had even acknowledged the tension between them. Frite's connection was instant. Frite always checked up on her and made her feel wanted.
Now what was Tater to do? Tater was never strong enough to speak her feelings when it mattered most.
She squeezed her eyes shut. Tater knew Frite wasn't perfect. But god damn it was she close. So close it made Tater feel like she was touching the sun each moment they kissed. When they talked it was like talking to herself.
Not because Frite didn't pay attention, but because Tater always mentally convinced herself that Frite was above her. Frite went through struggles and problems like everyone else did though. She refused her parents, ran away, and tried pursuing her dream with only the support of two lousy coworkers.
That also made Tater angry. She did all of this alone and yet she was still standing. Still above it all. Tater collapsed at merely working an extra shift, even with extra pay. Why was it this woman who seemed to be on an invincible castle leaned down to Tater's level? How could the two share the same bed, kitchen, bathroom, living room, house, or life?
Except, they didn't. And that hurt too.
Frite still has her own life and even after they moved in together, she just keeps growing. Frite goes out more and found her own way around her family and their riches.
Tater has the house and the Spud Hut. But that's it. After work she comes home to lay around. Her body will sink to her furniture with exhaustion and sweat built up from her disgustingly outdated potato uniform. Her brain dozes without direction until the sound of the door opening alerts her.
Frite would come home, almost just as exhausted, yet will propose her plans and get ready for an outing. Tater will reject, but watch her get ready.
Frite would change into a more suitable outfit just to ask Tater if she looked okay. Tater felt a sharp ache once more. Was she kidding? Tater would sell her soul for beauty like that. For the natural essence of perfection so casual it seemed criminal. The question always tore her up inside, like she was being purposefully asked because Frite somehow mentally knew Tater was insanely insecure.
Insecure.
Tater hated that word. What she felt about Frite was just love. Love was supposed to hurt. It was supposed to make you all confused and frustrated. True love makes you irrational. It causes you to reconsider who you are or who you will become. Tater just loved Frite so much that her hurt so badly to watch her accomplish so much. Love always makes you change your perception of your loved ones. The prickling in her eyes were just signs of falling in love.
Tater opened her eyes again for her original sight to not have changed at all. Watching her lay unbothered made her want to puke.
But she couldn't turn away. Somehow not being in her life felt even worse than seeing her achieve more than she could even imagine. Tater felt that she was back at square one. She was aware that her need to be Frite's world was impossible. She knew Frite had her own job along with friends and life.
Although it didn't dissolve any of her previous concerns. Frite's back being turned was rubbing salt in the already gaping wound that was her yearning for attention.
Tater could only gulp down the choke of tears humming through her throat in an attempt to meditate herself. Her hand fell from her mouth, pressing against the mattress to shift her body around. Her body now faced the nightstand. She reached for her phone with steaming tears still flooding from her eyes. Tater instinctively put in her thumb print before going straight to her messenger's app. It was late. But she knew someone was up.
hey, u up?
read
Her message was seen almost instantly. It was a bit frightening at first before she remembered who she was talking to. Augustus, the only man she knew who'd be as much of a loser as her to be up at this hour.
Yes, why?
Tater typed slowly. Her tears created thick blurs in her vision, making it harder to send a message.
have u ever loved someone so much you started hating yourself?
read
As soon as she sent the message, her heart dropped. A wave of regret crushed her state of mind. The guilt caused her to immediately smack her phone back onto the nightstand. She made sure to shove it faced down.
Tater didn't even want to know anymore. Tater didn't know if she could know anymore. How could she even say that? Frite would be so worried and upset if she ever heard Tater say something like that. Especially when Frite tried so hard in the beginning to work with her through her insecurities. It felt like a betrayal even saying that.
Why couldn't she just be happy for Frite when she needed it? Why did she always feel hurt when it had nothing to do with her? Why was Tater feeling so much worse when it was no longer about her?
Tater heard her phone buzz. She immediately extended her arm to flick off the notification alarm on the side of her phone before retracting her hand and shoving herself back into the covers. Instinctively, she turned back to face Frite. The movement caused commotion.
"Tater," Frite let out a soft groan, "are you okay?"
Tater flinched with surprise. Frite hadn't turned around and still knew. Tater felt her heart sore. It was like she was riding a high she could never find anywhere else. All the emotional torment she had just experienced felt like a dream. A loose memory.
"I'm fine." Tater muttered.
There was a small pause before Frite turned around to face her. Tater's heart raced with anticipation. The same she had felt when Frite first went to sleep.
"No you're not, what's wrong?" her groan transitioned to a warm hushed tone. It was like her words were delicately bandaging all those mental wounds that kept her up at night.
Tater bit her lower lip, "I just had a stupid dream."
"What happened in it?" Frite asked with a caring attitude.
Tater cautiously glanced away, "Nothing, it was really stupid. You should just go back to sleep."
Frite examined her face in the dark. It was hard to make out the closer details, but she knew Tater was upset. But she also knew pushing wasn't helping. Tater was the type to open up in her own time. That's one of the traits Frite adores about her.
"Okay. Just know I'm right here if you need anything. Goodnight." Frite leaned forward for a short peck on the lips then turned right back around to sleep.
Tater stayed silence. She wanted to yell, cry, beg, shout, or plead for her not to turn around. But she didn’t. She let the cold isolation of her own anxiety return.
Her mind had gone back to feeding her life ruining nonsense. It reminded her of all her past mistakes. How she wasn’t even nice to Frite to begin with, let alone deserved to be in a relationship with her.
Now look at her, laying next to her beloved with her damned heart knowing she felt not like her lover, but her shadow. Tater sunk in herself with hopelessness.
Was this her life? Was she destined to stare at Frite from afar in agony? Agony of wishing to equals or at least worth someone looking at. Tater felt clammy.
She was lying. Their relationship, her dream, this life they shared was a lie. There had to be something wrong with Tater if she was even thinking this way.
Tater bit her bottom lip to stop the whimpers of solitude that clawed in her throat. It was no use. Tater knew her need for self-sabotage ultimately ruined every relationship she’d ever had.
But she could not lose Frite. She knew her love was selfish. She knew each moment she lied to Frite about how she felt about her state was adding to the unmeasurable consequences soon to rear its’ ugly head into her seeable future.
It just felt so good to love Frite. It was the highest she ever felt. Frite’s smile and will to do what’s right never failed to make her heart sore.
Even her coworkers noticed a change in Tater’s attitude to their time together. Most of it was positive, but the negative was kept close. Closer than ever.
The space between her and her repressed obsessed caused emotional suffocation. Tater found herself less happy around everything and everyone else. It wasn’t okay. She wasn’t okay.
Tater took a glance at the back of Frite’s head one more time. Tater soaked in the gentle waves of her hair, the delicate snores after each second, and the warmth emanating on the other side of the bed before she let out a shaky exhale.
She finally closed her eyes, releasing the image of her beloved that still burned rapidly in her head.
Goodnight, Frite.