Like a Moth to the Flame
He watches her from across the room. She is sitting at a table with friends, laughing. He knows he should not be here but he can't help himself. He is drawn to her like the proverbial moth to the flame. Has always been. From the moment he first met her he felt the connection, a bond which drew them together not just once but twice.
He drains the glass in front of him and stands to leave risking one last glance before he exits the pub. It will have to serve him until the next time.
And he knows there will be a next time.