If a writer falls in love with you, you can never die.

Τετάρτη, 27 Αυγούστου 2014

You Walked In A Bar

I've been sitting here for hours. Not too crowded, dim lights, just the way I like it. I've been nursing a drink for some time now. Playing around with the glass in my hand. Probably because I'm already a little tipsy and I don't feel like spending the rest of the night with my head down in the toilet.

Am I waiting? Or am I just too drunk to get up and leave?

Fuck. I don't know. With one abrupt gulp, I finish off that drink and order another.

I know I'm gonna be sorry in the morning.

But right now it's okay. It's not too crowded, the lights are low and noone is paying attention to me.

Then the door opens. And you walk in the bar. Is it raining outside? 'Cause your jacket is kinda wet. Your hair too but you don't even notice. Damn you look tired.

My drink arrives as you scan the room and set your eyes on me. That little smile of pleasant surprise and acknowledgement. It could also be the what-the-fuck look but I'm too tipsy to notice the difference. And as I'm thinking how did you end up in this dodgy bar on this idle evening, you walk over. Smile still there.

I light a cigarette. You order a drink. And we just sit there. Me smoking, you looking at me, smile gradually fading away.

Your drink comes, you take a sip, yeah, it's kinda strong and you never really had the hang of it. You look me in the eye. Yeah, you're tired but there's something else there. God you look tormented. I see trouble in your eyes.

I take another drag of my cigarette, I don't offer you one, I know you don't smoke, even though you could use one right now. You're drumming your fingers on the table, my silence is making you nervous, because you know how transparent you are to me, the way I fix my eyes on you, simply staring at you silently.

Stop. That. Drumming.

As if you could read my thoughts you do. You take a sip of your drink and just stare into the glass.

"What happened to you?" I finally ask.

You look up and stare at me.

"Are you even still in there?" I ask.

You open your mouth to say something, but you stop. Even you don't have the answers anymore.

It's alright, drink up, we'll figure this all out. One day.

Maybe.

Hopefully.

And we continue to drink in silence, just like the familiar strangers we have become.

2 σχόλια:

  1. Αυτές οι σιωπές που ουρλιάζουν.
    I felt heartbroken as I read it.
    Εξαιρετική γραφή και εικόνα.
    I wish it wasn't so real.

    Big hug.

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