The Feeling’s Still There

The feeling’s still there, that’s the problem. He can’t let her image just fade away. His waking moments he distracts himself with mind numbing paperwork. Any lower level temp could do it. Walking to lunch his eyes glanced around to see if maybe she was watching. They often met for lunch at the cafe. The waitresses knew they liked to sit in that corner by the fire. All the mundane tasks of the office would melt away as soon as she entered. Sometimes they never ate anything at all, just held hands over coffee.  

Of course he didn’t see her. The last time they met she said goodbye. He walked in and sat at their table, ordered his usual fare, and stared at the fire. Where could she be now, what is she doing? Does she miss me as much? Why can’t I move on, forget? Her face filled his vision. He could almost feel her presence, smell her perfume, hear her voice saying words of love.  

He covered his eyes, bowing his head. “I can’t take this anymore”. He rose up so quickly, the coffee cup toppled and the brown liquid covered the table. He paid no attention, and left the cafe. His eyes filled with tears, his face hot, he was having difficulty breathing. “I….can’t”. He bypassed the office entry, started running to the safety of his car.  

He slumped into the seat. Where could he go? Her face, her memory, was everywhere. How could she have left him? The silent questions filled his head. He started driving with no destination in mind. He couldn’t go home, his family might be there. If he knew where she was, he would go there, beg her to take him back.

He found himself near the bridge. “All I have to do is make a hard turn”. His thoughts frightened him. He picked up speed, no one else on the old bridge, and jerked the wheel.


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