Bryan sat staring mindlessly into the mirror behind the bar. His fingers were wrapped around either side of his beer bottle, kneading and peeling the condensation soaked label one shred at a time. The pieces fell from his fingers as he worked, piling piece upon piece over the bar napkin he had previously deconstructed. His mind wandered as a gust of hot humid air rushed into the bar behind a sweat soaked construction worker, face still caked with dirt, smelling like he needed a shower more than a beer. God, he said, it’s too fucking hot to work, and plopped down onto a stool.
The noise shook Bryan out of his listlessness, and he glanced sideways at Jill, who was staring into her drink as she fussed with bending a drink stirrer into shapes that resembled nothing. They sat there, staring, thinking, wishing. Needing to talk, knowing it was the only thing that might save...them. Bryan felt a tear pooling in his left eye, away from Jill. It broke free, and followed a zig-zag pattern down his cheek, funneling through the lines and whiskers until it mingled with sweat, dispersed and evaporated. He wondered, how did we get here ?
Bryan and Jill had discovered each other online, and after exchanging a few pleasant and flirty emails, met for drinks. They hit it off right away, making each other laugh easily, having a few too many drinks, and laughing some more. Exchanging the abridged versions of their life stories, they immediately felt comfortable. Before they knew it, their quick drink was into it’s sixth hour, and both thought it was time to leave. They went out to Bryan’s car, and kissed somewhat nervously, agreed that it was very enjoyable, and said at the same time “we have to do this again”.
They did, and the date ended at Jill’s place, where they struggled out of clothes, mouths sealed against each other, hands fumbling with clasps and belts and zippers until nothing but tingling skin remained. Sated, they rested, legs entangled, and laughed about the wild times they had, and had again.
It became a familiar pattern, and each time seemed more intense than the last. They really had fun together, and the times were light and breezy. They went away to the beach for a weekend, and joked about the “L” word. But soon, the word crept into the nightly telephone goodbyes, silly love ya’s at first, as with the emails. Then the first one whispered, as he was buried in her and they stared into each others eyes – I love you she said, and he repeated the words.
And things changed. Simple words became perceived slights. The I’m sorries became more frequent. Bryan liked some planning and some spontaneity but Jill, but Jill was a free spirit who believed no plans meant no disappointments. Cracks slowly appeared in the bond they shared. Here they now sat, each with a different idea of what love meant to them.
Bryan turned things over in his mind. He genuinely cared for her, and loved her on some level. I know we can make things work, he thought – but wasn’t sure he wanted to. He learned during his hard journey out of a long marriage that secrets kill relationships, something he had been far too guilty of. And that suppressing issues never helped either party. He looked again at Jill, and wondered what she was thinking as she took a long drink from her glass. Where do we go from here he asked himself.
Bryan turned and looked into the mirror again, stared into his own eyes, and he realized he was looking at the person he needed to love first. He needed to meet his own expectations, and no one else's. He put thirty dollars on the bar, got up and walked out. He never looked back.
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