I simply cannot be drunk yet. It’s only the second glass of wine I’m having! Or is it the third one? Perfect, I have lost count and that is no good omen. Alright, maybe I am a bit tipsy after all. However through all this half sober, half tipsy situation of mine, I can bet my whole fortune that this guy sitting across the bar has been staring at me all night.
Of course he would be staring at me. It’s not every day you see a woman going out by herself in a male dominated place like this, consuming that amount of booze I had consumed in less than an hour. So now I am mumbling to myself; I am way more drunk than I calculated. This current behaviour is to be blamed on last night’s movie choice as I forced myself to watch Peter Pan for the one hundredth time. “One happy thought and it lifts you up in the air” the petite fairy remarked smirking. Well, that should be a splendid turn of events on a boring night like this.
Turning my head around I search for a happy thought, a thought that shall help me to fly as well. All I see is faces, unfamiliar faces. Some are dancing, some are talking and some are pretending to have fun. A man suddenly collapses from his chair laughing his heart out. That’s my kind of guy; I guess I’m not the only one in here who’s had enough alcohol by 11 pm already. Nothing remarkable, though, so I carry on from where I left off. Lifting my glass, I perform a toast to myself. Excited, I take notice of the tiny bubbles that air at the surface of my sparkling wine.
There it was – my happy thought for the night or maybe the entire week.
Closing one eye to elaborate a bit further on my bubbly discovery, throughout the glass I gaze on something strange. Lowering the glass to my mouth, I come across the view of that stalking guy toasting to me with an unbelievable huge smile. Proof for those who rushed to consider me as an alcoholic; I have not been having illusions all night. His eyes welcoming and his smile warm, I did the unexpected.
“I’m pretty sure we’ve met before.” I tell him with confidence even though it’s the first time I lay eyes upon this stranger. As I wait for his response, I make myself comfortable on the seat next to him. Nodding his head he laughs. Was it my cliché line or the fact that I have been extraordinarily bold to be the first to approach him that led him to this brief burst of laugh? I shall never find out as instead of uttering a sentence, he ordered a round of drinks to the muscular man behind the bar.
“So what’s your story?” He finally spoke himself and took a sip of his cigarette looking down at me with a nasty look. An extremely seductive voice he had and I consequently had no other choice but to surrender to his will. I commenced my speech by introducing myself and then I proceeded by giving him a full detailed description of my life including my job, my friends, my hobbies. Last but not least I surely did not fail to mention the reason that I was there tonight drinking all by myself.
In a great effort of mine as not to be presented as weak and vulnerable, I told him that this time period had not been quite the best. Explaining of how I lost myself and I was in the process of finding her again.
Finishing my long, crazy ass, unbearable monologue – he did not attempt to interrupt me once. Thanking him for his patience, I offered to buy him a drink. Kindly he said no and as he looked down at his watch, I presumed that I must have tired the shit out of him. Kudos you moron I thought, and he really seemed like a nice guy. Before he even stood up, I remembered that despite of spending the entire night sitting side by side I had not the slightest idea of what his name might be.
“Time. My name is Time.” He stated and stood up putting on his leather jacket.
“And what is your opinion on my story, Time?” I dared to ask him as I crossed my arms with a raised brow.
“Just let me pass.” He advised me pushing me gently of his way as he exited the bar.
Frowning to his response, I stood there with parted lips glazing at the exit. It took me days, weeks, months to get over that bizarre meeting with Time on that night. At some point I just had to let go. For sometimes to keep on insisting on something is way more painful while letting go can be so much liberating.
And so I followed the stranger’s advice. I let him pass. Day by day, little by little there came a day when I had found myself again. Without even rushing it out; or even thinking about it. Gradually and naturally, I found me. And it was all thanks to that stranger’s words I met on that night.