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I never got into this business to meet somebody.

My best friend of nearly five years back then, sat up on his bed in our college dorm, looked at me with wide blue eyes and said – "let's start a club". Four words, and that is how we started.

I'm not easily motivated, nor am I easily discouraged. That kind of combination doesn't sit well with a lot of people, simply because on the outside I look as caring as a slab of granite. My attitude and morbid personality helped none in the friend department, and after a while I began to think of myself incapable of having any friends at all. Then, somewhere around middle school, I meet a kid named John Cena who thinks the world is nothing short of sunny all year round. His personality is exactly the kind that gets lots of love from everybody – young and old – and I wasn't exempt from that category.

Regardless, the first day I met John, we argued. It was something stupid, and trivial, but for some reason I was in one of my worse moods and his stupidly smiling face just happened to close enough to mine. The argument ended with us both in the principal's office, and soon after, we spent the rest of the afternoon in detention. Someplace inside I knew I was wrong, but I couldn't bring myself to apologize, and for that, I had decided on that evening to simply let time pass by without so much as a word. John on the other hand, had other plans. We hadn't even gotten five minutes into our detention time when I'm brought to the sound of metal scrapping the floor, only to find John sitting beside me. We didn't talk much in that room, but upon our departure, he and I became instant friends.

Fast forward ten years. John and I own Blu Gold, an upscale club smack dab in the middle of hip strip downtown. Over the years we've had our fair share of fall outs both inside and outside the walls of our club, but at the end of the day, John would simply show up in my line of sight and his smile would mend whatever had come between us. As the years passed however, there was little to nothing that stood between our friendship, and soon it turned into something far less beautiful.

We were drunk. That's the excuse I've given it. We were drunk, and heartbroken. John had just found out his wife had cheated on him. I had just signed the divorce papers that ended my rather loveless marriage. The club was dying a slow death thanks to the recession. All we had left, it seemed, was each other. I remember looking at him, and I remember him looking back. I remember kissing him, and I remember him kissing back. I don't remember much beyond that point, except the look of utter despair in his eyes and voice as he apologized for what we had done. In the pit of my throat I wanted to tell him something. I wanted to say to John that what we did was okay. I was okay with what we did. I wanted what we did to happen. I wanted to be with him. But watching John apologize and beg me to forget about it…I simply put my cigarette back in my mouth and let the words I wanted to say that day suffocate and die.

Our friendship since that day has slowly returned to normal. There used to be an awkward cloud above us, but I quickly realized that I was the one generating it, and instantly I put from my mind the hope that he would feel how I felt and beg me to let him in one more time. That never happened. The day never came, and I've now come to terms with it. I've forgiven what John and I did that night, and in my mind I've forgiven John for breaking the part of my heart I had somehow always reserved for him. I forgave it all and I moved on. I drowned myself in work, while John found a new love in a girl named Nicole, and without any of us truly realizing it, the world shifted back to a time before that incident. Everything was now as it should have been had we both just gone our separate ways that night and not stay in and tarnish our club with a regrettable footnote.

So everything was normal again, and I was quite content even though sometimes a slight pain would come in when I allowed myself to think about it. Overall though, I found happiness in John's happiness and I honestly wished him the best of luck with Nicole. I wished him well and continued my own daily routine of keeping our business afloat.

I never, however, did that to meet someone like you.

John told me that you were the best DJ in the city. You just didn't have the money for stardom like the other guys. It was John who convinced me to hire you – "just treat it like a test run", he said. So I did, and having listened to you play every night, and fill this place with your groupies, I was honestly happy to have you on board as a team member.

That's all you were to me. A team member.

I understand that this may sound strange considering, but I never spoke to you because I wanted things to be as they are now. I spoke to you because it's a manager 101. All the big wigs and successes of businesses like mine tell you one thing. Communication is key. Trust is key. Knowing where your staff stands is key. I had to talk to you to get to know you as an employee and as a person. You have quirks, you know. I know because I've watched you. I've watched you tilt your head fluidly from side to side, only to then shift your whole body in that movement, concluding to a full on dance. You do that a lot. You dance a lot. Even when there's no music playing, you dance like you're D-Jaying in your head. Its fun to watch, and it never fails to put a smile on my face. That kind of loose freedom is so addicting, I soon realized that my whole mood would change if I wasn't able to see you express yourself that way.

But pretty soon, you know, you were dictating a lot more than just my mood.

Watching you, day in and day out, I began to notice that you rarely smiled. However, if a crowd suddenly flocked you while you were on a break or in the booth, you'd flash total strangers your rare and rather endearing smile, and the scene would piss me off. On the other hand, however, when I spoke to you and you smiled back, I felt something inside me break away and turn into a warm feeling that made for irregular heartbeats. When I realized what your smile did to me, I tried everything in my power to stay away from you. Yet, even from an unseen distance, just the mere sight of you put me in that state of overwhelming powerlessness, and had me most times at a point where I just wanted to cry. Just cry for no damn reason until there was nothing left of my pride, and I'd instinctively go to you and tell you what my heart wanted to say. These irrational emotions kept me barricaded in my own little box to the point where John was starting to worry about me again. However, I am no longer weak to his worry – a fact I realized while we spoke and he mentioned to me how much I spoke of you. It was at that point that I discovered that what I had for you was love.

I never got into this business to find love.

I was in love twice in my life. Twice. Both times I was left alone with a cigarette in my mouth to keep me company. Both times I had to find a way to pick myself up off the ground and put one foot ahead of the other in a great effort to keep walking. Needless to say, after John, I never went walking in the hopes of finding another special someone. It's not like I'm carrying a torch for him, but I'm older now – much older – and I don't have the time or strength left to chance something as delicate as my heart to something as unforgiving as love. Basically, before you came along, I had given up on love entirely. Yet, without you even realizing it, you've made a place in my heart and now you've fully remained there. Countless nights I spent just thinking about you, and your quirks, and your smile, and your smell. Countless days I spent trying my best to be your manager, only to fail and resort to locking myself back in my box. I had honestly resided myself to giving up before I had even started, but you did the unexpected and you came to me, and you asked me for help. With tears in your beautiful blue eyes, you came to my home, proclaimed that you had nowhere else to go, and seized the only thing left for you to take from me.

The next morning, you were gone, and you've remained gone for five days.

Ever the good friend, John came to me on the fifth day of your absence asking about how I was, and why I didn't look so good. I told him most of the truth. I told him how I hadn't been sleeping well, how I had lost my appetite, how I had cried so much that it hurt my head, how I missed you, how much I loved you…it was right here that I broke down. The cigarette in my hand left a bad taste in my mouth. The alcohol in my glass did the same. I knew why. It was because what I was yearning for didn't come in a bottle or a box. It came packaged as you, and you were gone for five days now. I know I had all rights to hate you. Unlike my middle school detention, unlike my broken marriage, unlike my fling with John, unlike my love for you – I had nothing to apologize for this time around. I did nothing wrong. You were the one who came to my door that night. You were the one who begged me to stay. You were the one who initiated the sex. You were the one who held me close as if I was something so very precious to you. It was all you. You are at fault. You should apologize to me. Say you're sorry for coming into my life and stealing what was left of my heart. You have to say that to me.

So, until then, I'll be waiting, and the light will be on for you.