The bar across from his infamous bookshop has become his secret garden. Not that it hasn't been all his life, but he finds that no one cares about him in there. The bartender, Mick, and him are on a first name basis. Which he finds thrilling to the fact that he can swipe free beers whenever Mick's in a good mood. Sometimes, even when Jess isn't too deep into his depressive state, they swap stories. Mick used to be in the war. He has stories, tons of them. He knows Mick's leg was broken five times, and his thumb twice. He knows that Mick watched his best friend die right in front of him. He knows that Mick's mom lives 6 blocks away from him in a "cranberry red" house. And, he knows that Mick had a Rory.

"She was beautiful. Ya know? The kind you absolutely know you should stay away from, but don't of course, because you're thinking with the wrong part of your body," Mick tells him.

Jess nods and holds up his drink to his lips. Swishes back the substances and listens again.

"Her name was Megan. Ya, we were Megan and Mick. She always thought it was cute, one of the few things she did love about me. We were together for five years. Then she just breaks it off, had to go into the war ya know, and I wrote her everyday. Every single day that I could. Sometimes I wrote twice a day. I think it was the way she laughed ya know. It was the most beautiful sound I ever heard. And when I come back? I find out she married some fuckin rich kid snob."

Jess looks quite intrigued. He looks at Mick, and somehow sees a little of himself in him. Something which makes his stomach a little queasy.

"So I became a drunkard."

"Over some girl?" Jess asks.

Mick eyes him carefully.

"She wasn't just some girl, Jay. She was it."

"So that's it?"

"Well if you would just let me finish my damn story…"

Jess rolls his eyes, but realizes that for the first time in a long time, or maybe ever. He really respects someone. Mick, he finds, is quite enduring.

"So, I say alright, this girl means everything to me, right? So what do I have to do? Well I go to her house, ya know and she completely makes an asshole out of me, right there in front of her cock of a husband. So I decide to write her one last letter ya know. So I do, no return address or anything. I sent it to her, a week later, who do I find on my doorstep?" he says smiling.

"Megan," Jess answers.

"Wouldn't that have been lovely? But no, it's the crackhead husband. Turns out he opened it, instead of her and somehow traced it back to me. So he tells me to stay away from his wife, he even pays me to stay away. I take the money of course…"

"- But I thought you loved her…."

"Kid, you really need to know when to listen and when to shut up. That's what I was getting to...So anyway I take the money with every intention of seeing her again. Turns out I wouldn't have to do a lot. Next day I find her with 3 suitcases on my front porch. She told me she was stupid, naïve and extremely in love with me, I agreed that she was all of those. We spent 10 wonderful years together. Then…well, she had heart problems. Ya know, she was so strong though, I swear sometimes I think she would have made it through. But she died, my mother practically cried for joy, hated Megan with a passion. But I learned to survive, opened up my own damn bar so I could fucking drink whenever I wanted to."

"Nice story," Jess says somewhat sarcastically.

"Boy, I didn't tell you this story, so that you could berate it. I told you it because you need some sense knocked into you."

"What are you talking about?"

"What's her name? Roseanna, Robin, Rita…"

"Rory," Jess pipes out.

"Ya, well she's the reason you're in here right?"

Jess just nods.

"Well, you know what you gotta do."

Jess looks up at him with uncertain eyes and Mick just sighs.

"I thought you were smart, obviously I need to work on my people skills….You need to tell her how you feel."

Jess snorts at this. "You don't think I've tried. I've been turned down enough and I don't want to fucking feel that way again, if you don't mind. Besides she hates me, she never wants to see my face again."

Mick stares at him for a while, contemplating whether or not he really is learning disabled.

"That's just the point, you dumbass. Girls are fickle, they never know what they want until you tell them. They're smart though, they can drive a man absolutely crazy."

"So tell me Mick," Jess starts sarcastically, "what do I have to do to get her."

He's only kidding, he tells himself. Well, only partly.

"You've got to realize that some things are just worth going after. Sometimes you gotta be the dumbass, to be the winner."

Jess contemplates this slowly. Mick seeing this starts in again.

"If you can't tell her how you feel, show her, or better yet…write her. If you don't do something you'll regret it for the rest of your life. Even if it's to let her go, Jay, you got to tell her."

"Mick you're fucking crazy," he tells him.

Mick just nods, agreeing with Jess, because really what's the use arguing about it.

"It's called closure. Just do it," he tells Jess.

And for once in a long time, Jess actually listens.