You're at the club, the same club you've visited almost every night since the day she left.
The day your heart was ripped from your chest and taken from you.
The band is playing a song you've never heard of and it's so loud you can't hear what your friend is saying next to you, the bass so heavy that you can feel it thudding in your chest like a hundred elephants stamping on your body. Unknown bodies push up against you and you feel unsteady on your feet, not knowing whether it's the dancing crowd crushing you against people you don't know, or the large amount of alcohol rushing through your bloodstream.
Your head hurts.
It really fucking hurts.
You check your phone for the time but the hustle of the crowd and the alcohol means you are unable to steady your hand long enough to focus on the screen. It's sometime around midnight, that's all you can gather. You realise that this isn't a fun way of living anymore. You get lost in your thoughts; thoughts of her, thoughts of the drugs, thoughts of everything you lost, thoughts of her. You can hear your friends calling your name but you struggle to breathe, you need air. You fight your way through the crowd looking for the nearest exit.
And that's when you see her.
You stand still, your feet frozen to the floor. The muffled sounds of the band on stage ring out in your ears, but you can't make out what they're singing about. The heavy bass disappears and the faint chime of piano keys can be heard, you watch as she smiles. That smile you haven't seen in 6 years, that smile you miss so fucking deeply. What was she doing in New York? Surely you must've seen her around if she lived here? The lights in the club light up her dress; red, blue, purple, you can't figure out what colour it is and it annoys you, the colour of a dress is making you angry because you know this girl like the back of your hand and yet you can't even pick out the colour of something so simple like the dress she's wearing.
White.
You realise her dress is white.
You shake your head. 'Stop being so stupid' you say to yourself internally.
You keep your eyes fixed on her dress. She's watching you; you can feel her eyes burning into you. But you cannot look at her, not yet. You turn around, push your way in between two bodies and lean against the bar. Heaven knows what would happen if it wasn't there to hold you up. Dizziness sets in and your head begins to spin, you feel drunker than you did only a few minutes earlier. The song ends and the crowd erupt into applause. In the split second of silence between the clapping and the next song, you hear laughter.
Her laughter.
You snap your head in her direction and witness her smile for a second time. Her beautiful smile. She's holding her drink in one hand, the other tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear. And that's when you lock eyes with each other. You want to turn away and stop this spinning in your head, but you're drawn to her.
You assume she's here with her friends, the ones she's laughing and joking with. As you continue to look at her, she moves closer. You almost have to look down at your feet to make sure you're not the one walking towards her.
You're standing still.
She's coming over. Coming to you.
You're met with the smell of her perfume and you recognise it instantly. It's different, unique. You know you would recognise it anywhere. The smell brings back memories of her. Memories of her with you. She stands in front of you, so close that your bodies are almost touching. And in that moment you remember what it was like to hold her, what it was like to spend all those countless days and nights with her naked in your arms. You were her safety, and she was your home. A lump forms in your throat and you have to swallow hard, afraid that your heart is about to make an appearance in your mouth.
"How are you?"
Who knew that 3 simple words other than 'I love you' could send you into a frenzy. You open your mouth but nothing comes out, you've frozen. You forget how to speak and so you stand staring at her, your mouth slightly agape. It takes what feels like forever to compose yourself; you clear your throat and speak.
Your answer is short, and some may even say that it was bitter. You kick yourself for sounding so uninterested in her.
You're so fucking interested in her.
You're met with a wave of emotions. Anger, hurt, jealousy, sadness…any emotion a person can feel other than happiness. The memories of her flood your mind and you feel like your head is about to explode. There are too many memories of her, too much hurt and pain attached to them. All either of you can do is stare at each other.
As the crowd continues to move, someone knocks into her from behind, sending her body colliding with your own. The contact makes your heart stop beating for a few seconds and your body tenses up. When she withdraws, you feel homeless. She was your home, and the loss of contact felt like she'd just taken it from you for a second time. You see the look on her face. She has to leave.
Of course she has to leave.
She walks away and reaches for a man standing with the group of people you first saw with earlier. You don't know who he is. She holds onto his arm. A friend? A boyfriend? You don't want to think about it, it makes you feel sick. As she is leaving, she turns around to look at you one last time. She knew you'd be watching her, she can read you like a book.
Your blood boils, your anger sets in. You want to protect her from this guy she's leaving with. You want her to be safe, you know the only time she ever felt safe was with you. She told you herself.
A tap on your shoulder. It's your friends. They ask you what's wrong, make fun of you and ask if you've seen a ghost. The ghost of the only girl I've ever loved, you want to say. But instead you smile and thump one of your friends on the shoulder and take the drink that he's holding to your face. You've lost all control of your mouth it seems, and you are unable to speak a sentence without slurring your words so instead you take a drink and hope the memories of her disappear. Your friends laugh at you; you wonder if they know who you just saw a couple of minutes ago.
Concentrating on anything else other than her seems like the hardest thing to do, and you know you have to leave. You have to go after her; you know you need to do this. Shoving the drink back in your friend's hand, you push yourself off the bar and set off towards the door. You're unsteady on your feet but you carry on, bumping into anyone and everything as you leave for the exit.
It's raining outside and it's fucking cold. You have no idea where she could have gone; if she had any sense she would've taken a taxi and would be long gone by now. You walk down the street, searching for any sign of her as the streetlights illuminate the way. Other party-goers line the sides of the street, laughing and joking with one another, probably taking the piss out of you for being a sad, lonely drunk. You don't care what you look like or how the rain has messed with your hair. You don't care that you're drunk and you look like a fucking mess. You just know something. You have to see her.
You have to see her.
You just have to see her, you know that it would break you in two.
But she's gone.