Dried Ink

Hello or Goodbye?

In a corner I observe the chatter, the rowdiness that makes me nervous but convinces me that my life is not as dull. There is a live band on the stage with a young lad that dreams of stardom, struggling to win the attention of the front tables. The rest of the restaurant is a lost cause.

My palms are sweaty from anxiety and my breath catches in my chest whenever a figure passes by my table. I look across the table to the empty space in front of me. Should I place my bag on the seat and act like I am expecting someone? Iโ€™ll have to look jolly and welcoming โ€“ No, too much stress.

Still, I have to look busy and purposeful to avoid awkward hellos and painful conversations. My mind is racing and I chew at my cuticles, punishing them in a bid to calm my wild imaginations. It seems like everyone is staring at me. Quick, you have to do something! My mind screams at me. I reach for my journal.

It is a battle with dim bulbs and faint moonlight. Still, I struggle to see the lines. I act like I have something to say, as if my words carry bars of gold dipped in honey. Instead, my ink draws blood and hot air, spilling emptiness on an already blank page. I check the time, it is 9:00 pm. I think I have done graciously for the week. Act like I have a life– check.

22 thoughts on “Hello or Goodbye?”

  1. Yo! Sweet heart! It seems my comment didn’t post at the end of the day, but *in heroic voice * NOTHING CAN STOP ME! I totally love this one because this is literally me on a regular. I love this babe, keep it up ๐Ÿ‘๐Ÿ‘๐Ÿ‘

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