Dream Girl

It's a Monday night and I'm at a mostly empty bar. Just me, the bartender, and a beautiful young woman a few seats away. I'm apprehensive to speak with the woman, so I got a drink.

I got a whiskey without ice (as it should be), and I sat at the bar. For whatever reason, she kept staring at me with her deep brown eyes as she sipped her white wine.

I tried avoiding her gaze and drink this heavenly smooth liquor. Then it hit me. Why don't I just talk to her? There are no stakes here. I'll probably never see her again after tonight.

I downed my drink, ordered another and walked up to her, her eyes still fixed upon me. Before I could open my mouth, she shushed me.

I was visibly confused. "I know why you're here." She said. "You're lost. You don't know where your life is going, just that it'll be this way for the next few decades.

There is nothing better, probably something worse, but definitely no rainbow at the end of this storm." I opened my mouth, but I knew she was right. She grabbed my hand tenderly. "It's okay. I feel the same way."

She smiled a smile so infectious that I smiled back. I felt a warmth in my heart and I lightly squeezed her hand back.

We talked for a few hours at the bar. I talked about my life. My mother died in childbirth; my father died of a heart issue shortly after. With no other family I was sent to an orphanage.

I lived in that hellhole until I turned 13, then I ran far, far away.

She listened to my every word, her eyes almost welled up when I told something sad. Her smile was beaming when I told her of the few good parts of my life.

I talked and talked and talked until I looked at my watch. Even though I hadn't had very much it was almost impossible to read the time, but it was probably bar close.

Then I realized that aside from her first few words, I never let her speak. "I'm sorry, I never even got your name." I said. "That's okay." She whispered as she felt my hand. Her touch felt better than the $100 whiskey I drank earlier. I actually never finished a glass since I started talking to her.

I had this dumb smile on my face that this beautiful girl even spoke a sentence to me. It had been so long since anybody spoke to me willingly.

We got dinner the next day and we had such great chemistry.

She told me about how she was never close to her parents, how when she was little her mother beat her when she drank too much.

How her father would comfort her... too much. What disgusted her the most was how she didn't smell like herself after her father was done with her. It haunted her to the point where she'd close her nose and stop breathing to the point of passing out.

I instinctively held her hand across the table and told her that it was okay. She smiled warmly.

We had more and more dates getting to know each other. She had the cutest laugh whenever I made stupid jokes. She was a good listener. She knew the right things to say. She actually invited me to her place and we watched a romantic comedy.

We sat on her sofa eating popcorn, mostly silent and eating popcorn until we both dug through the bowl of popcorn and our hands met. She put her head on my shoulder and cuddled up to me.

"I'm so glad I found you." She whispered to me closing her eyes.

"I am too." I said, a tear of happiness dripping from my eye that I quickly wiped away. As the romantic comedy ended, the love of my life in my arms, a song played in the movie.

It felt odd, I've heard this song before. Then it hit me: it was my alarm. I looked at her and then I grabbed her by the shoulders, looking at her deep in the eyes.

"No!" I screamed, tears streaming from my eyes. "Don't leave me! I don't want to lose you!" she was confused. She gave me a tight hug and I hugged her back.

She whispered in my ear that it was going to be okay. I knew it wasn't. The music was getting louder and louder and louder. She let go of me and looked at me deeply in the eyes. She tilted her head and closed her eyes, getting closer and closer to me. I closed my eyes and got closer to her.

Then my eyes opened. I was in my bed. I looked at the clock. It was six in the morning. "Time for work." I sighed as I got up to face another hateful day.