Remembering Sunday

The sun cascaded through the window of the small cafe, Her face lighting up with the warm glow of the afternoon setting sun. Her hands, cupping a coffee cup and her breath, breathing in the sent of serenity. Less than a foot away from me, the closest I’ve been to her in months. I can taste the lilac and lavender perfume which is anything but branded. Its just how she smells. I want to wrap my arms around her, I want to put myself under her sweater. Her brunette hair lays on her shoulders perfectly. Showcasing her creamy coffee skin, being poked from underneath by her perfect collar bones. I close my eyes and my world gets dark. I feel as if I’m under a blanket but I am not. I am under her sweater. The scent of Lilac and lavender are so strong I feel I am in a field of them. She is humming to a beat I feel I’ve heard somewhere. All my worries are gone. I am in the arms of her again. I am safe for now. I am so entranced I don’t even know what we look like to the people around us. I just want her to make it better again. The sound of her humming gets louder and more continuous.

My eyes flutter open. I am disappointed that it was all just a dream.

The lilac and Lavender was just my candle. The coziness of her sweater was just my blanket and the humming was just the static of the telly. My nights have been filled with such dreams since the night she left and never came back. That’s it. I’m done moping around and hoping that “God” or “The Police” or as my mother would say “The Great Ruler” do something about it. Stepping out from the comfort of my recliner. I slip on my converse. Not bothering with pants leaving me in a pair of blue boxer’s and stained gray t-shirt my outfit of choice since she left. I look in the mirror, and realize that I look like a giant pile of feces. My hair, going every direction it finds. The bags under my eyes so dark that it looks as if mascara has ran down, but was stopped by my cheeks. My stubble growing more then it has in the last 5 years. A familiar sent coming from the confines of my mouth. The bottle of whiskey not being forgotten since its left its mark with a terrible aftertaste. The world a little blurry and Topsy-turny I still make my way to the door. I’ve got to go find her. I’ve just gotta have her in my arms again like in my dreams.

Throwing my jacket on, I open the front door letting in the chilly breeze of the evening air. Crickets fill the silent street of Mulberry. It took great concentration not to fall over myself like a willy wally. I had one thing on my mind and that was her. My love, my light...my life. We had breakfast together the day she left me. The day she ran away I ate two eggs over easy. Those eggs didn’t fill the growing hunger in my body. Over the next months that hunger would turn pure animalistic. I needed her and I craved her. Her body, mind and soul. Nothing was gonna stop me from finding her and asking her to marry me. Not even my fleeting vision and the ground turning black and the trees roots growing leaves. Not even the incredibly strong urge to close my eyes and take a nap.

I look around and I’m in her house. The white walls with contemporary art on them call my attention but my sweet had other plans. She grabs me by the hand and looks at me with that devilish grin that would leave even the strongest of man, speechless. Slowly climbing the stairway she somehow got closer. Until I was carrying her into her bedroom. I knew the way even though this was the first time of me being in her lovely home. Throwing her down I hear her giggle. The giggle that I have been waiting to hear for months. Unbuttoning her shirt she shrugs it off. I look at her like an orphan looks at their first meal. Hunger, passion and even a little pain is driving my every move. But then, the world turns dark again. And like that I knew, even in this fantasy-like state, It was all but another dream about my lost lover.

The sky is slightly more blue then when I passed out. I need to get this drinking thing under control but only after I find her. Dusting myself from the dirt and gravel of the ground I just fell on, I head over to the Smith’s they used to be good friends with her parents when she was little. I dont’ know where her parents are located so I figured this was as good of a lead as I was gonna get. I need to find her and I don’t care if I’m reaching stalker status. With a belch and a long, crash-filled walk later, I was on their modest doorstep. With three knocks of the bullhead, a robed Mr.Smith answers the door and is not particularly happy about being awoken in the wee hours of the morning.

Coughing and making sure not to slur my words I say, “I don’t mean to bother you but have you seen this girl?” I finish with holding up her picture. With a shake of his head and I swift smack of the door. I was back to square one. Not that I was too far away from it to begin with. I knocked on a couple other doors and told them how she’s been in my dreams and I just can’t live without her. Sadly, no one knew where my mistress had gone. I had one more place I could check. The address of the house in my dreams. I will try that house and the neighbors. I walk because I am too drunk to drive. This leaves me with another predicament besides having to walk a couple miles. My mind it only drifts to her. She told me the day she left that she doesn’t believe in love but I can tell by the way she looks at me that its a load of shit. She believes in love I think she’s just scared of it. I would’ve been too if I’d known that it would have me knocking at peoples doors at four o’clock in the morning like a mad man.

After a three mile hike through the town and part of the suburbs and all of a sudden it was as if my dream came true, accept...she is not here with me. Which is something I am gonna have to change and quick. With a couple deep breaths since the nervousness has set in now that the liquor has worn off. I knock at the door of her home as the sun rises over the horizon. This is the last face of anger I am going to see tonight. They are going to tell me where she is. I think to myself. A few seconds past and I knock again. Nothing. I then see the sign I neglected to recognize when I walked up. “FOR SALE. ENCHANTED LAND REALTY”. That’s weird but not a loss lead. I’ll try the neighbors. I few more steps won’t kill me. I walk up to the blue and white house next door and ring the doorbell. The sun high in the sky, yet the color of such sky is still pink. I ring the doorbell again and an angry man and woman step to the doorway. “Forgive me, I really don’t mean to be a bother. I just need to know if you’ve seen this girl” I say and then hold up her picture. “I’m gonna ask her to marry me.” I add. The anger turns to sympathy. “She moved away a couple months ago.” They said. I had knew. Somehow my subconscious new where she was. Well, that didn’t lead me anywhere and I am not ashamed...okay I’m very ashamed to say, I weeped on that stranger’s doorstep.

After I was done weeping and was on my way back home I couldn’t help but think of explanation for what has happened. Could she have just moved away without telling me. Could she have died? None of those made sense. If she moved away she had everyone opportunity to tell me and if she had died, the neighbors would have said that. And then, out of the blue, like I was chicken little, the sky almost began to fall. I see now. I look up and see the clouds barreling in looking like a bunch of cotton stuck on a fourth grade art project.

She said something before our last date. Something about Atlantic....Atlantic...Records! Sitting on this park bench for the past hour wondering how I could have gotten that clue and have it just slip by me, it was heartbreaking. I never listened to her. I never...listened to her. I grabbed my phone out of my pocket. I look at the voicemail box and I have three voicemails. One was from a telemarketer and one was from my mom but the third one, dated two months ago was from her. The voice on the other end said “I’m not coming back. Please forgive me. I’ve done something so terrible. I don’t even want to speak. I left you, to pursue my passion but I love you and I want you to know that I am not calling to tell you I’m coming back and I know you expect that of me. I’m just all mixed up and the rain. I’m just so sick of the rain. You not being here is just driving me crazy. I need to get over you, so I’m standing out here. In the rain washing you out of my hair. Can I ask one favor from you? Keep an eye on my brother. He lives at 110 S. Sukan street. He’s my world. Its hard for me to do that so high up you know? Plane rides are like my home now. Everytime I pass over the town though, I think of you. I think of all the things you’ve done for me. So, this is your goodbye. I just hope the machine hasn’t cut me o-”

I sat there for an hour going over and over her voicemail. I’ve tried calling her but her phone has been disconnected since she left. I stand up, I guess I’ll go home now. Even though the love of my life is somewhere else probably with someone else, I feel a sense of content. The fact that I know she’s okay and that I was the only reason she is not in my arms right now is comforting. If I would have just been ready for marriage when she was here, I would have her all to myself. Too bad.