Disclaimer: Not mine, don't sue.
Luke sat at the bar, twirling his straw around in his drink. He stared aimlessly out the window, wondering exactly how he'd allowed his life to spiral downward so quickly. He remembered back to high school, to the last night he ever remembered being happy.
"Grace." Luke stared into his girlfriend's eyes, and, even after all this time, was still amazed by her beauty. He leaned forward and brushed a kiss across her lips, but she didn't seem to respond. "Something wrong?"
"I, uh, I have to talk to you about something," she said uncomfortably, avoiding his eyes.
"Sure. Anything. What's wrong?"
"Uh, well, you know how I got accepted to BC, and uh, you know, you'll still be in Arcadia." She still hadn't looked into his eyes, but Luke felt a pang in his heart. He knew where this was going, and it was the last thing he had expected.
"Grace. We decided we'd make it work. I love you, Grace."
"I know, I love you too." She swallowed, gathering her strength. "It's just, you know, it's really far away, and we'll hardly ever get to see each other." Tears were forming in her eyes despite her best efforts to blink them away.
"It's only a year, Grace. We'll make it work. I promise. We promised each other we'd make it work."
"I'm sorry, Luke." It was one of the first times he'd heard her use his name. "I just don't think we should do this."
"Grace." Tears were pouring down his face now, and he did nothing to stop them.
"I'm sorry." She turned and walked away, not looking back, afraid to look him in the eye.
That had been the last time he'd seen her until the other day. They went to college in the same city, and Boston only was so big. It was a wonder they hadn't run into each other before. She had the same blonde hair, same leather jacket, and walked with the same attitude, as if threatening anyone who got in her way. He had tried to call her name, but nothing had come out of his mouth as he stood in the middle of the sidewalk and watched her walk away for the second time.
Now, as he stared out the window, a flash of blonde hair caught his eye once more. There she was, across the street on a park bench, reading the Boston Globe. He wanted to get up and walk to her, tell her that he still remembered her, that he still loved her. That even though it'd been three years since they last saw each other, he couldn't forget her. That even though he'd tried to move on, that he'd been on countless dates with countless girls, none of them even came close to measuring up to her.
She looked up and seemed to almost catch his eye for a second, but she looked back down at her newspaper, not realizing who was staring at her.
Luke paid the bartender and walked out of the bar. He stood on the curb, ready to cross the street, but somehow couldn't get his legs to move. He waited by the lamp post as people walked by him, waiting for something. Finally, she got up and left the park, and Luke did nothing but watch her leave. He mentally kicked himself for not following her, and returned to his dorm fighting down tears.