VI

As I walk out into the cold through the solid oak door I can feel her eyes fixed on me, burning a hole in the cloak I have enshrouded myself in. The water has turned to a dull shade of grey and white foam as the waves lazily crash against the breakwater. Try as they might the waves fail to alter the way the rock has gotten by for centuries. In a fleeting thought I wonder if I am the rocks or the waves. It’s a fleeting thought but one that has often crossed my mind as I exit this door. I try to remember the first time it came to me but I am interrupted by the voice of what my drunken mind perceives as an angel. It’s one of those rare moments where the lights of a passing car makes everything in its wake angelic. She is radiant. She is fucking glowing and this is bliss. Often people will say that they don’t believe in love at first sight, but I contend that they have never been a bottle of whiskey deep and seen a raven haired, light eyed goddess backlit by an oncoming car. It changes something in me. Suddenly the world isn’t as fucked up as I once believed it to be. Suddenly it isn’t all black and white. Suddenly I find that I am standing under a street light in a long coat, as close to a deity as I will ever find myself, asking how the hell did I get this lucky. In my head I wonder if maybe she’s chasing someone behind me. Maybe some rich guy left his wallet on the counter and she’s just trying to return it hoping that he’ll whisk her away to Paris. Instead I’ve got to deal with my greatest fear. I’ve got to talk to her. I mutter something unintelligible hoping that she is just outside of ear shot. I’m not that lucky, she heard every poorly timed syllable. In my head there’s always something clever, I’ve run a scene like this over a thousand times in my head, had four million witty things to say to disarm her and make her laugh. Instead I’ve projectile vomited a mish mashed thought. She laughs anyway, nods her head towards a bar across the street that’s far too well lit. Places like that make me feel like I’m on stage standing in a spot light with every one of my flaws on display for the world to see. Every synapse in my head is telling me to get the hell out of there; to not ruin it. I can feel my lips begin to move. They’re forming the word “yes” as my head screams “no!” and plays out every possible scenario for disaster. Suddenly my feet are shuffling a door is opening and I’m greeted with a warm blast of air and it all goes black.