A Night at the O...

As I turned to see her eyes, her blue; sometimes grey eyes, piercing into mine ...quick witty banter, as if it were home.

Saying more with the fluttering of her lashes than with words coming out of her mouth...with each blink came it's own retort.

...satirical...

So I spoke the same way...fluttered mine right back. I had my own things to say in regards...

In regards to how this evening would go...

"I'm here with a date," fluttered lashes, and a wry smile express much more than words alone.

"I figured as much," fluttering in my own quirky, sardonic way, but still heart broken underneath it all.

Face to face.

The words are lost in time, but body language...

This instance has been burned into my psyche since.

I go to bed with it...I wake up with it...and it checks in at least one other time of the day...everyday.

That scene...

It had been months since I'd been out of the house to do something, anything. Now I observe the woman I miss, on a date with a guy she doesn't want to get close to...

Call me a schizoid, but the music playing left a ringing in my ears that would linger for another two days.

It had been months since we'd seen each other, I didn't know if I was making her uncomfortable just being there...

So I left...

And it's been on repeat ever since...

And it's only been just another month...