“You too!” he replied. Immediately feeling like a fool, and wishing for the power of invisibility before the waitress could react. He wasn’t taught much during his upbringing, but politeness was one of the few qualities instilled in him by his family. Of course, in moments like these, he wished he had just stayed quiet.
She turns, smiles, and they exchange an unspoken understanding. She was charmed by how he treated her. While they only spoke for a few moments, he treated her like a person. And with the endless rude and selfish people she met on a daily basis; that was enough for her.
He turned his gaze downward, towards the plate of protein and carbohydrates laying in front of him. He had tried to start eating better. He really wanted to work towards feeling better. But the allure of temporary comfort that came with ingesting fried food was far too tempting. “I don’t drink. I don’t use drugs. Just let me have this”, he thought.
Four bites in, and it’s bliss. He isn’t thinking about all the pain of the past. He isn’t thinking about the pain laying in wait within the future. He isn’t thinking at all. That was something even more rare than the steak he was shoving into his mouth. That’s when a few musical notes slink out from the speaker preached above him. They hit him like a freight train.
It’s a song he’d heard countless times before. It’s not the song that’s actively borrowing it’s teeth into his chest, it’s the memory attached. With that simple little melody, the floor drops out from under him. But there’s no mattress under this trapdoor. He’s hitting the ground this time. A cement floor of all he aches for.
He remembers every good moment he had with her. He remembers her scent. He remembers everything. Everything, but the bad. Things weren’t perfect, he’d never deny that. Some things were due to circumstance, others seemed more deeply rooted. But what did that matter? “Nothing worth a fuck is ever achieved without work”, he thought. He had felt things he never felt before when she entered his life. It had to mean something.
He had tried so hard to fight this. Telling himself it wasn’t real. Telling himself he would get over it. But all his work and conditioning crumbles with that damn song. The hole in his chest burned cold. The pain in his stomach twisted his organs. The tumor in his head throbbed. If these aren’t the side effects of love, then what are they?
He didn’t want to finish his food. He didn’t want to numb his thoughts with sugar and sleep anymore. He didn’t want to go through the motions of living. He didn’t want to fuck the waitress. He just wanted things to feel right. He just wanted to believe again.
Bravado wouldn’t fix this. For the first time in his life, he felt completely lost.