Disclaimer: You guys know I don't own it. So deal.
Pairing: Alex/????
Rating: Definitely G or PG.
Distribution: If you're a sucker for punishment and you want to distribute it, send me an email here to tell me so,
and you can have it.
Feedback: I love feedback. Send me some. My address is PlasmaticFanatic@aol.com.
of the patrons of the bar I'm performing at tonight. Of
course, she doesn't see me. She never does.
She's been here off and on since I started performing here with
my band about two years ago. Every time she comes, she is
nursing one of the many broken hearts she's suffered. And
every time she comes, I want to walk over to her corner
table, pull her up to me, dance her into the starlight outside,
and make a thousand promises that I would gladly spend the rest of my life fulfilling for her.
But I can't, so I don't. Our past won't let me, won't let us.
I always just glance at her throughout the band's sets, unable
to look long. I'd never know how to react if she ever caught my stare.
I'm singing now. Singing helps soothe my own soul, and I'm
hoping that it is helping ease her ache as well.
As I prepare to sing the last song, I think about just how the
tune relates to my relationship to her. It's definitely a
strange one. Yet one I'd like to see intensified.
She breezed into my life in the tenth grade like a whirlwind,
disrupting the six of us; Michael, Max, Isabel, Liz, Maria and
myself. She never got very far with us, she always seemed to be
on the outside. But from the inside looking out, I got to see
her. I saw past her thin wall of solitude. I just never found the chance to tell her
I understood. Then we graduated and there was no chance for
understanding. She left town, I left town and that was that.
What if I HAD made a move? What if I HAD told her I could help,
that everything would work out for her? In high school I dated
Isabel Evans, and while she was a knockout and one of the nicest
women around, toward senior year, my thoughts were always
clouded by the woman with the curls of spun gold.
I open my mouth to sing, thoughts jumbling my brain.
It's been over two years for me, and I'm still not quite myself
You can't be with someone new, and you can't go back to him
You're beginning to realize that it's sink or swim...
afraid I'll choke. Thankfully, the feeling passes. I take
another look at her, stirring her drink with a thin straw and
looking around wistfully. I continue.
You're looking like if you had your wish, you'd be somewhere else
And it just breaks my heart to see you here this way
Someday I'll get the nerve to walk up to you and say...
Our eyes lock. Oh, God, why of all places for her to move, did
she end up in Chicago? Why did we have to coexist in the same
city, with me knowing I can never have her? I can't tear my
gaze away from hers as I continue singing. I'm wishing she can feel my emotion, wanting her to hear
me, needing to make her SEE.
The song is over in a few minutes, and I feel deflated because I
realize now that she will be leaving. I give my normal thank you speech:
"You've been great, I'm Alex Whitman, we're the Starhoppers, thanks for coming out!"
The night went typically, and now it's ending typically. There's
just one change tonight, but it's enough to make me freeze
on the side of the stage.
She's walking in my direction.
Every nerve in mybody is bouncing as she approaches, looking
even more beautiful than she did in our high school days. Her
hair is longer, past her shoulders now. Her eyes are still as
blue as I remember, and as she reaches me, they fixate on me,
her lips parting as she speaks the first words to me in 6 years.
"Hello, Alex."
I struggle for words. Do I tell her all my thoughts? Do I say
anything about my feelings? What do I say?? Finally, I
figure it out.
"Hello, Tess."
We stand there awkwardly for several pained moments, and just as
I am about to reveal my whole world of thought to her,
she speaks again.
"Would you like to go for coffee?"
Seven simple words. But as I leave with her, I realize just how
important those seven words will always be to me. And
how I hope that they lead to a million more moments between us.