My Pop once told me, "If there's something you want, something you need, boy, you had better fight for it." He told me this one Christmas, when I was twenty. We were sitting in his workshop, sitting on worn but comfortable thrift store chairs, sipping apricot brandy to keep warm as we looked out the open door as the snow silently fell upon the landscape. He started talking about him and my mom, about how they got together, how she was with someone else when they first met but he knew immediately he wanted to grow old with her, to be with her and her alone. At first, they were friends. She was in love with this guy, she'd been with him for years, but my Pop, he knew they were wrong for each other. The guy was a jerk, and there was no other way to put it, but she loved him and for a while, they were friends, my mom and dad. But, considering they are my mom and dad, I guess you can tell how things ended up. He fought for her.
When my Pop told me that, well, I didn't think much of it. Time passed, years disappeared into the nothing of history, and college was over and somehow I ended up working in the paper industry, thinking it'd simply be a stop before something bigger and more important. Before a career. Then, of course, I met her. One day she was sitting at the reception desk when I came in for the day. I didn't really think anything of her, at first. Not to say she wasn't beautiful, she was just there. I know that sounds callous, but in I've never believed in love at first sight. She was cute, I thought that, but that was all. I introduced myself and shook her hand. It was small and warm, and incredibly soft. She smiled, a genuine smile, one that radiated kindness and purity and whatever else it is the poets talk about, but that's when it happened.
I sat down and noticed, the way my desk was positioned, I had a perfect view of her as she looked at the computer screen, staring vacantly, with nothing to do. Michael came out of his office once everyone had arrived for the day, and in a trademark Michael moment, managed to completely embarrass the poor girl in front of all her coworkers. She looked to me, for some reason, and all I could do was grin something stupid to try and suppress my laughter. Immediately, I regretted it, but then she smiled to, and something clicked in my head and I was resolved.
Things quieted down and we went to work. I made two sales that morning. Back then, I was actually productive. This was before the whole prank thing got underway. She was the instigator, after a moment when Dwight tried to impress her with his Orange belt. We ended up running it through the shredder and leaving the pieces around the office for him to find. After that, I asked her to lunch and she said yes, and buddy, all was right with the world.
It was surprisingly not at all awkward. At least, until we both reach for the check at the same time and I realize there's a ring on her finger, and buddy, all was shit in the world. But I suck it up and try not to dwell on it and that's how we go about the next three years. But, I do dwell, I always dwell, all I fucking do is dwell. I'm the fucking champ when it comes to dwelling and no matter who else enters my life, I can't help but compare them to the receptionist.
I forgot my father's words for a long while. They're always there in that space of my head reserved for all the advice I've gotten and never actually used. Then, I'm dating this girl and she's nice and all and I invited her to this work thing, thinking it'd be fun because, really, Katy was a lot of fun. But then, the other girl, the first girl, well, the guy who gave her the ring had some drink in him and decided, what the fuck, let's do this, so in front of everyone on the boat, he sets a date for the wedding and then, it seems real, and then I look into the future and all I see is this abyss, the big empty, and the girl I'm with, she says something, just sort of searching for a good word from me. And for once in my miserable life, I'm honest, and I ask her to break up with me. Then I talk with Michael, and for a moment, he's not Michael, and what he says, it reminds me of what my dad said, and I realize that it's fight or flight.
I get an opportunity, and then another. So I stand before her, like a man on an auction block, and for the second time in recent memory, I'm honest about what's important. And her eyes, they actually see me for a moment, and then she says "No", in slightly more words. So I retreat to lick my wounds, but those fucking words come back into my mind and I find her again, and I do what I've wanted to do since the first time I saw that smile for a moment it feels like that smile is below my lips but she says "No" again and fight or flight, I've no choice but flight.