It hurts when I look at you. We stand at opposite sides of the crowded club. Time has stopped. I try to catch your eye but you just will not see me. I want you to look at me, to see me looking at you. I want you to rush across the stage and come to me, pull me close to you and kiss me, hard. You don’t. You don’t even look at me. Why won’t you look at me?
The MC starts counting down; his excitement is contagious with every number he speaks. The crowd has joined in the counting and the air is electric with anticipation. Soon, confetti will be thrown and balloons will start to fly. All I see is you. Corks are popping. Couples are kissing. Friends are hugging and laughing. I hate them all. I hate everyone of those happy people. I see you and nothing else. You will not look my way. Look at me, I command through my gaze. Nothing.
You leave tomorrow. I knew this day would come. I didn't want to leave with you, not that you asked. I did not want to say good bye, either, but I changed my mind. I need to say good bye now. I want one more night with you, lying in your arms. Just one more time, I plead with you, never saying a word. One more night where time will mean nothing and the night will not end. You still have not looked at me. Just one more look, one more glance, one more moment with you – is that too much to ask?
We are still standing at opposite ends, not moving. Not looking. My heart has stopped as I think about your touch, your smell. My breath is still as I close my eyes and feel your skin on my mine, our bodies pressed together, and your breath on my neck, the palm of your hand on the curve of my back pressing me closer to you. I am back in your embrace.
It started with an innocent touch and then another. I never knew it could be like that. You whispered words to me that no one ever said before and I didn't belive you - I knew you where going to leave. It was planned. You where taking a one way flight to somewhere. But, I loved the way you looked, the way you bent your head to light your cigarette and the way you sang Christmas tunes in June. I wanted you. I hate that you are leaving and I hate that you will not look at me just one more time.
You still have not looked at me, I turn to go. There are things left to do before I can go home, alone. Money needs to be collected and change given. Tables need to be cleared and silverware needs to be rolled. Party goers need to be shooed out of the room. It has been a long night and I fear it will never end. Time starts moving again. How will I make it to tomorrow? What will I do when you won’t be here?
I look your way one more time and there is nothing but the wall where you stood.
How will I make it through tonight?