Gone.

She sat there in the corner of the cafe. Just barely still in his line of sight. They didn’t exchange any words. Not even a wave. Just a simple little smile and nod of the head when she first walked in. And that is all she had to do. From that moment on, she had him.

He had been sitting there for awhile, trying to work up the nerve to go introduce himself. But for what ever reason he just couldn’t. He couldn’t figure out why. He’s done of dozens of time before, but for a reason he couldn’t quite put his figure on, she was different.

He just kept sitting there. And with each passing moment, he knew he was losing his opportunity. He played over and over in his mind what he would say. He didn’t want to come off as just another guy trying to picking up a woman. And just when he had it. The nerve to go up and exactly what he wanted to say; she was gone. As quickly as she had come in, she was gone.

“Dammit,” he thought to himself, “I missed my chance. I don’t know why I froze up like that.” He was beating himself up about it. Things could have gone horrible, or they could have gone great. He didn’t know. That is what killed him the most. Not knowing. He just kept repeating the same thing in his head.

“I just wish I knew what her name was.”

Challenge

“Maybe,” he sighed, “I’m just a little over my head here.”

He sat there at his desk, wanting to bang his head against it, thinking maybe he under estimated the task he put upon himself. He knew that it would be difficult, but he didn’t think that he would have this much trouble with it. The task itself if nothing new to him. He’s been doing it for almost a decade now. But this particular technique, which is the real challenge at hand, is something very new to him. He wasn’t used to it. Which is the reason why he chose to do so in the first place. He wouldn’t be able to further himself by staying with what was familiar. He needed to be challenged. And this has definitely proven to be quite a challenge. He’s ready for it though, even if he has to convince himself from time to time.

“Well,” as he logged on, “I guess this story ain’t gonna write itself.”

Strategy

He wasn’t sure of what his next move should be. This has been going on for what seemed forever. No matter how he tried to approach it, he was denied. So much thought, so much effort and it is slowly beginning to seem like it is for nothing. He hated this feeling of being helpless. There was nothing that he could possibly do. And just as he was about to just give up, that’s when it hit him. The answer was right there in front of him the whole time. He was ready to make his move.

“Knight takes E5, checkmate.”

Fear

He found himself every day surrounded by beautiful women. All them calling out to him. It was what every guy dreams up. Even he did, at one point in his life. But now, things just didn’t feel right. He forced himself to accept this shallow praises as a form of the one thing he had never truly had. Love.

He could probably list out a million excuses why he had never felt true love. There’s too much going on in his life right now. His job. His family. His friends. The list goes on and on. But he knew, deep down, none of those were the real reason. In his gut, he knew. He knew that he was simply afraid. Afraid he wouldn’t know what to do. Afraid of the pain he might feel. Afraid he wouldn’t deserve the love he would find.

He also knew this. He knew that he couldn’t spend the rest of his life afraid. It was time for a change.

A Chance

He took a deep breath and decided to go for it. He walked up to where she was sitting in the library.

“Excuse me.” he said as he tapped her on the shoulder.

“Yes?” she said with a half turn of her head.

“You dropped something.”

She looked down behind her, seeing nothing. She looks at him, partially confused and a bit annoyed.

“What?”

“My jaw.”

“Wow,” she laughs, “is the that best you got?”

“Hey,” as he sits down with her, “it made you to laugh right?”

Relief

I cried tonight. For the first time in a long time. A real long time. The reason why, well, the initial reason why, I don’t think its time just yet to let it out. But once it started, it came. It really came. For reasons I thought I had let go of. I am not quite sure what to think of the whole thing. But I do know this.

It felt good.

Waiting

He found comfort sitting by that window. If you were to look out this window, you would see a long street, that stretched into the horizon, lined with houses, trees and streetlights. He sat there every night, just after the sun disappeared behind the horizon and the street lights came on, staring up into the sky. No matter the what day it was or time of year, he was there every night; every night since she left, about ten years ago.

There were all kinds of stories the people in the neighborhood would makeup about why he would sit there. Some funny, some not. Some sweet, some not. Either way, no one knew the real story.

Me, I’d like to this he sits there for his wife; to talk and catch up on the time he lost with her. You can see it in his eyes. If you just took a moment to look past that hard expression on his face and slumped down posture he sat with, and looked at his eyes. You” be able to see the tiniest sliver of hope. Hope that one day, she’ll come back.

Dusty Road

Slowly he walked out of the pink horizon. Rays of light peeked from behind his head, which blocked the sinking sun. As his feet skimmed over the surface of the ground, tiny pebbles are kicked up into the air. A small breeze picks up from the East and the surrounding trees whisper. A light rustle off to the side of him as dry leaves move through the dying grass.
Tall and strong as the trees he passed by. He wore an old white rag across his left eye as a patch. He wore rough five o’clock shadow that went well with his dirty complexion. His shirt torn and tattered; hanging on to his back by just a few threads. His pants weren’t in much better condition. Held up by two shoelaces which he tied together; the right leg was ripped off about halfway up his shin and there were cuts and tears throughout. He wore one black glove on his left hand and a brown one, with the fingers cut off, on his right hand. He wore no shoes, just one dirty blue sock on his right foot. Over his shoulder looked to be a makeshift sack he made out of some old sheet.
What stood out about him most though was his smile. Looking the way he did, most would think he wouldn’t have much to smile about. But smile he did. Smiling like he had not one care in the world. A smile – that would stay constant, as he walks that dusty road.

Coming Home

Hands still on the steering wheel, John sat in his car. He tried his best to compose him but it wasn’t very easy. So many thoughts and emotions rushed over him.

“You okay sweetie?” John’s wife, Mary, asked from the passenger seat.

“Yeah,” he replied in a tone even he didn’t believe, “I just never thought I’d be back. At least, not under these circumstances.” The last time he was here, it wasn’t exactly a great memory. What started off as a small argument with his father turned into John leaving home, some twenty years ago. After what seemed like another twenty years, he let out a long breath.

“I think I’m ready now.” as he looked over to his wife.

They both got out of the car, and walked up to the church doors.

Walking

He sat there quietly as she got up and walked towards the door.

And with tears in her eyes, she reluctantly walked out of the restaurant and his life. It took all that she had not to stop and run back towards him. As much as she may have wanted to stay, she knew that had to go. As the door closed behind her, she let out a deep breath.

“Goodbye.”