The Dube

"So, was it love at first sight?" I stared across the table of the smoke filled bar at my prying friend. I was astonished at her candor. How could she just come right out and ask me such a thing? I was still broken from the events of the past few months. I answered her matter-of-factly. "No, it was worse. It was the kind of love that attaches itself to the very core of your soul and you know that no matter what happens it will always live there."

I put my cigarette out and stared at her with such intensity I thought that I had to be making her uncomfortable. The waitress returned and I ordered us two bourbons on the rocks. "God, why is love so disgusting? It ruins everything. Fuck that, I'm going to take a piss, please try not to slit your wrists while I'm gone." I was so relieved to see her go that there was no way I was going to waste this precious time alone by committing suicide. Now I was free to sink deep into myself.

Did anyone ever notice the way that she looked at me? If they had noticed they would have seen that we were in love. Christ, that woman had a way of making me feel like I was the only thing that mattered. She could make me so fucking high that I didn't know what day it was. Then she could break my heart in a way that made me beg her to do it again. I was crazy over her.

" Hey! Wake up! Drink your God damned bourbon and let's go. I'm sick of this place." Sometimes I hate my friends. She was going to get drunk and tell me to move on and that I just needed to get laid. And maybe tonight I'll try to do both. Maybe tonight I'll stop looking at my cell phone every five minutes to see if I somehow missed her call. Maybe tonight I'll find something that will help me make my infatuation fade.

My throat burned as I sipped the last of my bourbon. I welcomed the familiar warmth that began to fool my body into thinking that it had forgotten. "I still feel her throughout every inch of my body you know. If I breathe in deep enough I think that I can still smell her on my skin. It's never going to go away. I know that you think it will, but I'm meant to feel this forever." Now my gaze to my friend had softened. I couldn't get a clear view of her expression though my tears, but she knew. "Are you fucking happy? Is this what you wanted to see?" I asked her this, but I didn't want to hear her answer.

"C'mon, let's go. I never liked this place. It smells like Marlboros and desperation." I looked around and decided that I couldn't have agreed with her more.