Opposites collide, glances entwined. As our sights locked upon each other, we did not look away like what every stranger does. That is until a smile from her broke the trance I have drowned into, I responded with a toast to loneliness and to her. She responded to my cue, and we drank till it’s half full. We just looked at each other on Valenight, divided by the bartender and his arsenals, sundered between words and actions. The occasional disturbance and cuts in between proves futile to disrupt this mysterious yet magical connection we shared… There were no dialogues, no pick up lines, only mere minor gesticulations; overtures through little actions that meant so much more than words.
Intentions opened, deliberations denied, for I only intend to chill here just for a night. A night to get away from the couples that encroached this civilization, away from the apparitions of held hands and oral copulation; away from the lovers that I used to be and never would be. The previous player in me would have seized the opportunity and give her a night to remember, but the contemporary me wanted nothing more than just a simple night of emotional respite at a pub. Women and sex are no longer on my agenda, like how love and hate has never been my prerogative.
I thought my existence will never be noticed in this dim lit place, I thought I had coalesce into the dark like how I had lost belief in hope and faith, and I never thought I would ever share any special connection with a woman again…
She gave me her number, I got no phone, but a piece of paper… But I think it ended up in the washing machine… There goes the magic, erased and dissolved right down the pipes and chemicals of launder… I’m back again… Back to reality, back into this loveless mythology.
My 22nd Valentine’s Day… Who wants to my date next year?
Intentions opened, deliberations denied, for I only intend to chill here just for a night. A night to get away from the couples that encroached this civilization, away from the apparitions of held hands and oral copulation; away from the lovers that I used to be and never would be. The previous player in me would have seized the opportunity and give her a night to remember, but the contemporary me wanted nothing more than just a simple night of emotional respite at a pub. Women and sex are no longer on my agenda, like how love and hate has never been my prerogative.
I thought my existence will never be noticed in this dim lit place, I thought I had coalesce into the dark like how I had lost belief in hope and faith, and I never thought I would ever share any special connection with a woman again…
She gave me her number, I got no phone, but a piece of paper… But I think it ended up in the washing machine… There goes the magic, erased and dissolved right down the pipes and chemicals of launder… I’m back again… Back to reality, back into this loveless mythology.
My 22nd Valentine’s Day… Who wants to my date next year?
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