Of all the things to risk, of life and limb, the heart is always the most dangerous. For if it all falls apart, it will not kill you. It will merely bring you to the brink of death from the inside out, but it will not kill you. It will debilitate you beyond the disfunction that any loss of extremity could, but it will not kill you.
No. It lets you live. An organ on death row. Shrinking away until there is nothing but a chest cavity filled with failed attempts, songs and letters for no one, and the occasional regret.
Anxiously she awaited his arrival at the pub. Make up and hair impeccably done in the hours before. A drink to calm the nerves. Distracting herself by conversing with the joining couple she’d arrived with. He was late. “He missed the train earlier.” she was informed. Shortly after, he arrived. Greeting her with a captivating gaze, a warm smile and a kiss on the cheek.
They made their way to the restaurant down the street.”You wore heels like you said you would,” he smiled at her.
Appetites satiated they relocated to another pub for a few more rounds. The other couple departed after it was assessed she’d be alright left in his ‘capable hands.’ She sipped her double rum & coke at the pub table, drinking him in all the while. A conversation without words. Her leg pressed into his beneath the table as the clatter of drunk conversation and spilt ale permeated the air. They’d lock eyes, he’d smile at her. The corners of her lips turned upwards and she pursed them together as she bashfully diverted her gaze to her drink, spinning the ice cubes around in circles.
Again they took to the cold evening streets. He took big steps as his tall frame allowed, while she quickened her strides to keep pace. A Blues bar. Cover was £5 each. She hesitated and turned to him as he handed the door man a tenner. Inside was alive with warm bodies and lively music from the far end of the bar. Predictably they cozied up to a wall with more rum. There was only one seat which he chivalrously offered, but she insisted on standing between his legs while he sat instead. They talked, compared stories, he made her laugh and she put her hand on his leg as if to steady herself without ever being off balance in the first place; he smiled.
The time was fast approaching where the trains stop until the early morning. Not ready to say goodnight they headed South. Rum blurred out the background of people and sounds in the brightly lit tunnels as they amorously made their way through the underground.
Whiskey upon arrival followed by the obligatory grand tour which eventually terminated between sheets. Morning came and went. He had mountains of work to do; tight deadlines & pressing phone calls that he seemed to be completely ignoring. She wasn’t going to remind him, but instead searched for the subtle cue from him that it was time to go that never came. Instead, he trailed his hands through her hair while the window shades eliminated the world around them for another day.
As it’s always best to depart before you’ve had the opportunity to outstay a welcome, he accompanied her to the bus stop the next evening. “Do you want me to come to the station with you?” He asked. “You’ve got work to do I know. I’ll be fine. I’ll probably see you later?” He nodded and held on to her while she rested her head into the crook of his arm. The double decker that signaled their parting arrived. He kissed her again. Then she stepped on to the bus and hasn’t seen him since.