Shooting Stars
The day that I'd been waiting for all of my life was fast approaching.
I'd never been more excited or overwhelmed as I was now; I may have seemed calm and composed on the outisde, buy internally I was waiting for the moment that I could release all my anticipation and jump for joy. My wildest dream would come true. Somehow I wished that the day would just hurry up and come; true it was only a week away – but the emotions were killing me.
I opened my eyes, needing to push the adrenaline from my body, this week was my time off from work and I had arranged a trip to Holland for my girl and I, to have some alone time before the preparations overtook us and we became so emersed in our separate tasks that we couldn't tell day from night and defiantely didn't know what proper sleep meant.
Holland was beautiful this time of year, Spring, the sun was shining – a right better sight than London raining every day of the year; flowers were in bloom, mostly azalias and lillies and the city of Amsterdam was thriving – tourists every day bustling up and down the busy main streets; our villa overlooking a picteresque canal lined with soft birch trees that cast shadows along almost every inch of the cobbled-stone foot path.
I rolled over, stretching and sighing slowly to face my beautiful fiancé. She looked even more gorgeous than usual with the early morning sunshine playing across her features from under a small space in the venichian blinds. Slipping my hand into hers I leant across to breathe in the smell of her skin; fruity as ever, floral, nothing short of perfection. Smiling, I kissed her on the cheek and held her close for a moment or two, cherishing the silence and traquility – opposite again from the busy streets of London where noise was always a problem. It seemed almost too peaceful to be real; but still I welcomed the quiet, it was a luxury to be absorbed while it lasted.
Thinking it must be almost past seven am and I could no longer sleep, I rose languidlyshrugging off the warm cucoon of blankets that enveloped my slim body, taking care to tuck it in again as I exited so the warmth would be kept in for my lover. Slowly I walked to the grand window and opened it, staring down upon the silent street, only the lapping of the canal water on the edge of the stone skirting could be heard. I turned my face into the gentle breeze blowing west-ward. It was cool and calm, refreshing my thoughts. It would be maybe two or three hours before my partner woke, I knew she was a late sleeper so I decided to head to the sofa in the wide open sitting area to think a while. I wanted everything to be perfect this whole trip; it was the first time Rach had been out of London in nearly ten years, so I wanted every experience to count.
I passed the mirror in the hallway and studied my reflection, ignoring the lines of tiredness around my eyes. Shurgging my sleeves over my fingers I reached up and tied my ginger-red hair into a pony-tail, smiling in approval at myself. Not too shabby. As I settled myself into the scarlet double lounge suite twenty minutes later; coffee cup in my hand, I began to devise a plan, a way to make this holiday the best one Rachel had had in years.
x-x-x
"This is bollocks, I can't believe she would just pack up and leave after eight years of
loving me, for a flower girl." I raged, drinking deeply from a polished beer glass.
"I know mate, life's unfair that way innit." Coop replied, slapping me on the shoulder comfortingly. "I swear that Luce chick was into me."
I chuckled darkly and drank the rest of my pint. It had been a year since Rachel had left me for Luce and so far I hadn't found anyone else. How could I? I'd been in love with her from the first day we'd become friends and I thought I would be for the rest of my life. But I suppose fate, or lesbianism, had so graciously changed those plans for me. I wasn't sure which was worse. She had been my wife; my soulmate and now she was engaged to another girl.
"I have to do something." I slurred, slamming my fist down on the table. "I can't stand it anymore."
"Let me guess," Coop interjected, "You're quitting work? Rob's up your ass again?"
"That man's an arse, but no. I meant about Rach. I've got to win her back!"
Coop put down his glass and looked me in the eye.
"Now listen Hecky, I know drastic times call for drastic measures – but in your case I think you just need a good shag to be honest. Don't be too rash."
"I don't want sex Coop, I want my woman back." I argued, ordering another pint. I popped open my bag of chips and grabbed a fistful, chewing angrily.
"That's what all men think; but sex is actually good for releasing stress." Cooper raised his eyebrows, nudging me, "I should know, all the women I've shagged have said they're a lot more relaxed once I've finished with them."
"Thanks, you're a great help." I snapped, drinking deeply. Beer had been my companion through the darkest and lonilest nights since my wife had left me.
"Well you just need something to get you back in the dating scene." Cooper assured me, tapping his fingers on the countertop. "How about we hit the clubs tonight? Get out freak on?"
I almost snorted at Cooper's suggestion; as if any of the women at the sleazy London clubs could compare to Rachel.
"No thanks Coops I have a plane ticket to book." I stood from the bar stool and wavered where I stood; I'd been drinking pints since 1pm and it was now 5, so the alcohol consumption suddenly hit me as hard as a tsunami on a small town.
"What? You're taking the piss right?" Cooper rushed after me as I ran to hail a cab.
"Not a chance. I've got to get my wife back."
"She's not technically your wife Heck." Cooper stated bluntly.
"She will be again." I told him firmly. Maybe it was my drunken stupour or my plain stupidity talking, I knew that I was being rash, but I just needed to see Rachel again, perhaps to make an effort, or just to try and win her back.
Cooper stared at me dumbly as I climbed into the backseat of the taxi and slammed the door, waving at him through the rear window as the vehichle pulled away from the curb and sped off down the heavily trafficked road.
I thanked the heavens that Rachel's mother kept me informed of her where abouts and holiday trips when I happened to bump into her at the shops every Monday morning before eleven. Amsterdam was my next destination.
x-x-x