Daydream

Paris, April 2015
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It's a great cafe, I love it.  Not really the style I was expecting in modern Paris, but apparently the stereotypes aren't one hundred percent accurate, who knew?  I smirk slightly at myself and at the Americanism, glancing down at the Kindle on the table.  Another book finished and I'm not really in the mood to read right now.  I've been feeling a little strange recently, not really myself.  It happens sometimes, and I try to fool myself into believing that I don't know why.

Of course I know why.  Fuck.  How could I not know why, when I think of the cause every damned day.

It's almost 5 years since I last heard from her.  Strange, it feels so much longer.  Not a day has gone by since then that I haven't thought of her, replayed our last messages in my mind.  I've never looked into her eyes, never touched her, never held her in my arms.  I've never stroked her hair, never felt her warm breath on my skin as she whispered to me in the dark of the night, never… It takes an effort to pull myself back from the edge of my daydream.  Not here, not now.  The daydream always ends with her leaving and me fighting back emotion, and I can't - I won't - do that here in front of all these people.

But just imagine…

Some day, I'll be sitting right here at my usual table and I'll glance up at just the right time to see a slender blonde woman walk through the door.  She'll look relaxed and laid back, she'll probably be here on holiday and will have been here for a few days.  Effortlessly stylish, putting any of the Parisienne fashion divas to shame, she'll casually stroll to the counter and order a coffee in Dutch-accented French, drawing my attention immediately with that soft, husky voice that still haunts my dreams.  I can see it now, how the cup will fall from my shaking hand onto the table with a clatter, loud in the quiet murmur of the cafe.

And her head will turn toward me. 

I'll know… a single flash of those beautiful eyes and I'll know.  I'll look back at her afraid to look away in case she's gone, all of my love, my longing, my need for her in my steady gaze and see the recognition dawn in her eyes, followed by… what?  Fear?  Loathing?  Love?  After all this time, after all we put each other through could there still be love in her heart?  Maybe she'll turn away, turn toward the door, walking briskly through it, breaking into a run outside… running, sprinting, needing to get away from me, put our past behind her as she thought she had done years before.

Maybe… No.  I won't think it, not this time.  Not again.  This time will be different.

Maybe she'll have had the same sleepless nights that I have, and the nightmares, the awful, terrible wrenching nightmares.  Waking time and time again with the aching sense of loss in the pit of her stomach, unable to shake free for the whole day from the feeling that something is wrong, something is missing.

Maybe she'll have sat, head in hands, wishing, just wishing that things could have worked out between us, that we could have been together… as I have, as I still do. 

And maybe, even if only in this daydream, she'll feel what I feel, take a step towards me, tears prickling beneath her eyelids as she smiles uncertainly, all composure gone.  I'll stand and step towards her, around the table ignoring the eyes of the staff and patrons of the cafe on us both, covering the distance between us with a few long strides, gathering her into my arms and holding her tight against my shaking chest, pulling her head to my shoulder.

After a long moment, feeling our hearts pounding in our chests, unable to trust myself to speak without my voice cracking with emotion I'll pull back just a little, my lips brushing the soft warm skin of her cheek.  I'll face her, my arms still around her, and look into her eyes, those beautiful eyes that I've dreamed of so many times.  I'll whisper the words I have always wanted to tell her in person, holding the gaze of those lovely deep eyes, "I love you".

She won't answer, she never has in my daydreams.  She'll look down, tearing her eyes away from mine and I'll feel my heart finally break for good.  My hands falling to my sides, I'll tenderly kiss her forehead and walk away.

The daydream slips away from me slowly and I find myself back in the cafe, tears slowly running down my cheeks, dripping onto the table in front of me.  A couple sitting nearby are watching me curiously.  I stand up, and leaving the Kindle on the table, my jacket on the back of my chair, I walk to the door and open it pulling the brass handle to me.  I step outside into the cool air, cross the pavement and look up at the fast approaching bus.

"Fuck it"

I step out in front of the bus.  Noise… pain.

Finally, peace.