Waverly
Nah...
You can just as well stay where you are.
That’s what I am thinking as I watch you from the other side of the bar. To think that I once fell for those big words of yours. Big words but with a shallow meaning, hardly anything backing them. Even if it’s easy to spot from afar it’s hard not to fall for it sometimes; when someone is giving you compliments, or when someone is describing the how passionate they are about even the tiniest detail about you. When really all they are doing is trying to convince you to like them by telling them things they want to hear.
Well, in my past life I was naïve. And for that I fell. Far.
But there are others here for you tonight, others who may be intrigued by such a rebel and romantic as yourself. A girl – a good-looking blonde – in the bar listens idly to your words. Things go well to begin with, you’ve caught her eye with your smooth body language and mesmerizing gaze. Then you say something that make me giggle. Of course, I can’t hear what you’re saying but your gestures, your timing, your face says exactly what. You said that same thing to me years ago. But this time around, despite the colour of her eyes, the girl is clearly less blue-eyed than I once was.
“You seem to think you’re the first person alive on Earth to try that pick-up line. Sorry boy, I’m not for you.” She tells you, shaking her head before she takes her drink and leaves the bar to join her friends on the dance floor.
You sigh, because you’ve taken a shot and missed by a mile. I know what you think, that you’ve missed a shot at love. But I also know that is not the case, you’re not looking for love, you’re looking for comfort. For a mother. For all those things I was never able to give you.
An old brass bell chimes loudly from behind the bar and the music fades into a lower volume. “Last call!”
I empty my glass, and in the corner of my eye I notice you’ve just emptied yours too. The frail foot of my wine glass is gently set down on my table in the same moment as the bottom of your bottle hits the bar desk. But even though we’re both without company in the same bar we’re alone in so very different ways. I came here exclusively to drink wine, while you have intentions.
My heart skips a beat my eyes meet you gaze, you’ve noticed the unoccupied seat next to me. You wound up, readying yourself to come over to me. Memories start rushing through my mind, I start to panic and get up. I head straight for the door.
I wouldn’t have been able to say no.
Your words, your charm, your pathetic, cliché, pick-up lines would have had me right back where I we were all those years ago.
Once I am outside, I take a deep breath and let out a long, drawn-out, sigh. Then I walk home through the dark night all by myself.
That’s what I am thinking as I watch you from the other side of the bar. To think that I once fell for those big words of yours. Big words but with a shallow meaning, hardly anything backing them. Even if it’s easy to spot from afar it’s hard not to fall for it sometimes; when someone is giving you compliments, or when someone is describing the how passionate they are about even the tiniest detail about you. When really all they are doing is trying to convince you to like them by telling them things they want to hear.
Well, in my past life I was naïve. And for that I fell. Far.
But there are others here for you tonight, others who may be intrigued by such a rebel and romantic as yourself. A girl – a good-looking blonde – in the bar listens idly to your words. Things go well to begin with, you’ve caught her eye with your smooth body language and mesmerizing gaze. Then you say something that make me giggle. Of course, I can’t hear what you’re saying but your gestures, your timing, your face says exactly what. You said that same thing to me years ago. But this time around, despite the colour of her eyes, the girl is clearly less blue-eyed than I once was.
“You seem to think you’re the first person alive on Earth to try that pick-up line. Sorry boy, I’m not for you.” She tells you, shaking her head before she takes her drink and leaves the bar to join her friends on the dance floor.
You sigh, because you’ve taken a shot and missed by a mile. I know what you think, that you’ve missed a shot at love. But I also know that is not the case, you’re not looking for love, you’re looking for comfort. For a mother. For all those things I was never able to give you.
An old brass bell chimes loudly from behind the bar and the music fades into a lower volume. “Last call!”
I empty my glass, and in the corner of my eye I notice you’ve just emptied yours too. The frail foot of my wine glass is gently set down on my table in the same moment as the bottom of your bottle hits the bar desk. But even though we’re both without company in the same bar we’re alone in so very different ways. I came here exclusively to drink wine, while you have intentions.
My heart skips a beat my eyes meet you gaze, you’ve noticed the unoccupied seat next to me. You wound up, readying yourself to come over to me. Memories start rushing through my mind, I start to panic and get up. I head straight for the door.
I wouldn’t have been able to say no.
Your words, your charm, your pathetic, cliché, pick-up lines would have had me right back where I we were all those years ago.
Once I am outside, I take a deep breath and let out a long, drawn-out, sigh. Then I walk home through the dark night all by myself.