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Unfortunately, the bartender returns all too soon with his drinks, and before I know it, he’s gathering them from the bar and turning to leave.
Reality slams back into me.
How many times have I looked at an attractive man and thoughtone day? One day a man like that will love me. One day I’ll get married and have children. One day I will have all the things I never had growing up. Love. Stability. A real home. People who love me. One day...
Knowing that I probably won’t live to see that day is one hell of a pill to swallow. We live life thinking there’s always more. More days. More time. More chances. But I know better. I know that things can change on a dime and that nothing–absolutely nothing–is guaranteed, especially not tomorrow.
Our eyes meet again as he turns. My skin tingles from looking into those eyes a second time. He gives me a soft smile and then, just like that, he’s gone. I watch his backside as he walks away, wondering how on earth God could have ever created something so perfect. If God even exists, which right now I’m questioning more than ever. I think it’s safe to say I’m having trouble believing in anything right now.
I mean, if there’s a God then where has he been my whole life?
When I was younger I used to pray every night. I would pray so hard. I’d pray for my mom to get her life together and finally break free of her addiction. I’d pray that my dad wasn’t who my mom said he was and that one day he would come find me and take me away. I’d pray for food and shelter when my mom would go on a two month bender and we’d find ourselves,once again, out on the streets. I’d pray to go home when I’d find myself in yet another foster home with people who saw me as nothing more than a paycheck.
Needless to say, my prayers were never answered. Had they been, maybe the one person I need more than anything right now, my mom, would be here with me. I could pick up the phone and call her and she’d comfort me and tell me everything was going to be okay. But instead I’m sitting here alone, unsure if my mother is alive or dead.
It’s been nearly a year and a half since I left. It broke my heart to leave her but I had to. I had to escape. Otherwise I was going to end up stuck, just like her. I couldn’t do that to myself. I couldn’t sit there and watch her slowly kill herself. I’d done it my entire life. Watched drugs steal her away, watched her fade further and further into the distance. Truthfully, I’d be surprised if she even remembers she has a daughter. That’s how bad it had gotten.
Her face filters through my mind–her sunken in eyes and the hollow expression she wore the last time I saw her.
I shake away the thought and refocus on the man, watching as he crosses through the various high top tables positioned a few feet away from the bar. He stops at a table next to the far side windows where three other guys are sitting. All of them seem a little older than the blue eyed man, and while none of them are quite as attractive, all three are still good looking enough for me to take notice.
He sets the drinks on the table and then to my surprise, glances back in my direction, causing my stomach to twist in the best possible way. One brief moment is all I get before he’s taken his seat, his back facing me.
I watch him and his companions for several minutes, thankful for something to focus on other than the hollow pit in my stomach and the deep ache in my chest.
I watch the muscles in his back flex as he laughs, his shirt stretching across his broad shoulders every time he leans forward even the smallest bit. I imagine what they must be saying to each other, envision how incredible his laugh sounds. I bet it’s deep and delicious, just like the rest of him.
I watch different women approach the table throughout that time, ignoring the pang in my stomach when the blue eyed man wraps his arm around one particular woman with blonde hair that hangs inches from the waistband of her too tight jeans.
I couldn’t be more different than her if I tried. She’s all lean legs and perfectly highlighted hair while I’m about as basic as they come. Petite, dark shoulder length hair, sporting my usual attire of leggings, an oversized sweater, and fluffy boots. Nothing about me screams sexy. Whereas this woman oozes it from every pore.
I bet this is the kind of woman he usually goes for. The kind that looks like they exist in an alternate universe from the rest of us plain, ordinary folk.
She leans in close and my gaze narrows, watching as her head falls back as she laughs at whatever the man says. For a moment I think she might join them, but she ends up sauntering away a few seconds later, a satisfied smile on her pretty face.
Not long after that all four men gather their coats, talking as they empty the remainder of their drinks before walking out the front door.
And just like that, my world comes crashing back down. I feel like I’ve been punched in the stomach. All the air leaves my body in one quick movement and I’m left chasing after it, trying to pull in a breath.
It’s silly, really. How something like an attractive man could make me forget what I’m about to face and likely not survive. But there’s something about him. Something I can’t quite put my finger on.
I lean forward, wrapping my hands around the glass of water in front of me as my mind spins off into some fantasy world. A world where I’m not sick. A world where I would have the courage to grab my coat and walk right out of this bar after him. Ask him for his number or out to grab a bite to eat. It’s absurd, of course. Something I would never in a million years do, but it still doesn’t keep me from thinking about it. I’m so consumed by the thought that I don’t even look up when I sense someone take the seat next to me.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone so mesmerized by a glass of water.” The deep voice vibrates straight through me.
I look up, completely caught off guard to see the same blue eyed man sliding into the stool next to me, a twinkle of amusement in his eyes.
It takes me several long moments to gather my thoughts enough to form a coherent sentence.
“Yeah, it’s really not that interesting.” I laugh to myself, realizing how stupid I must look.
“If it’s not that interesting then why does that water seem to be the only thing you care about in this entire bar?” His left dimple makes an appearance causing my heart to beat a little faster.
“Nothing better to do, I guess.” I shrug, releasing the glass as I sit back in my seat.
“Certainly there’s somewhere you could be; something you could be doing besides sitting here staring at a glass of water.”
“Afraid not.” I can’t help but smile when his eyebrow shoots up in question.
