it was never meant to be, just the two of us
a gorgeous stranger in a gorgeous strange place. that was him alright. and before him, you. he was holding his cigarette the way you do: tucked safely between the thumb, the middle and index fingers. as if scared that a strong wind might blow it away from him; or some stranger from out of nowhere might snatch it from him. i guess you were like that on everything that you thought you owned. you wanted them secured, fastened close to you. i used to wonder what made you behave that way. so insecure, so afraid that someone you love might leave you or be taken away from you. it took me years to understand it. to understand you. but i am digressing. let me get back to my story. &&&&& he was a stranger. a nameless guy with movie star looks. drinking alone in an empty bar (except for us, there were only two other customers, a man and a woman, probably lovers.) i don't know why i have...