Moving Mountains (Patrick Kane)

See You Again .2

Valerie

You know how people have that thing that gives them a sense of purpose? A reason to live if you will.

Yeah I never had that.

No sport or music or hobby or art. I like cooking and trying new foods but I would hardly call those a reason to live. It's the bare minimum at best. But when you're as alone as I am, none of that shit really matters much. You just do your best, that's all you can ask for really. Your best.

But it's hard to do your best when you don't know what you're doing. You don't have goals or reasons. You're just around.

I move from job to job, leave before I can't imagine my life without it. There's a lot of opportunities in the city of Chicago. Leaving is never that hard because there's no hard feelings from my previous jobs, if I stick around long enough the boss usually gets why I had to leave. As for right now I was serving for a nice steak house in the heart of the city. It was a good paying job and presented some challenges that scratched that innate itch for something more. For someone who tries so hard to fit into the background this place was pretty well known. But it also offered some sense of wonder too.

"Val! Table 6 is ready" the cook yells out.

I walk over and grab the tray full of delicious smelling food. The prices are a bit absurd if you ask me but at least it was worth it. Once I set the plates down I head back to finish my rounds before running into someone.

"We really have a weird way of greeting each other" a familiar voice says. Once I get my tray stabilized I look over to see that Patrick guy from the other day standing there. Although this time there was no baseball cap or Nike shirt. He was in a incredibly stunning three piece navy blue suit and a black bow tie. His hair slicked back and a strong smell of cologne. He looked nice, I couldn't deny that.

"I-I'm so sorry" I mumble as I collect myself. God I pray he doesn't remember me.

"I was... I was hoping I couldn't see you again" he confesses and I stop. I look up at him and he looks back at me. He can actually see me.

"Me" I ask. I assumed he had forgotten all about me.

"Yeah. For some reason I just couldn't seem to get you out of my head" he claims.

I stand there looking up at him a bit confused. I wasn't the kind of girl that got stuck in peoples heads. Never even got a second glance to be honest. I was the kind of person people forgot about or ignored entirely. I was just around. And I was okay with that.

And now I'm supposed to believe this man was thinking of me for the past few days? I'm not buying it.

"I'm flattered Patrick, I really am. But I can't say I truly understand your intentions, nor will I ever. Feelings, they're not meant to be understood. Not even by the ones who feel them.

So let me ask you, what feeling do you think made you want to see me again" I challenge.

He stands there still as possible as he looks up at the ceiling. The chandeliers hang above us like stars in the sky. Finally he looks back at me before he just smiles.

"I'm not sure I know. Even if I did I wouldn't be able to accurately explain it to you. All I know... is that I wanted to see you again. And I'm happy I did" he claims.

To be honest I was at a loss for words. I couldn't tell you the last person who was happy to see me. I wasn't alone, per-say, but I was lonely. Not even I can deny that. But misery loves company.

"Well... now you saw me again. And I'll be on my way" I say starting to walk past.

"Wait! That's it? You're just gonna leave" he asks.

"Look at yourself Patrick, now look at me. We are in two different worlds. I'm where I belong and you're where you belong. What is worth upsetting the balance" I challenge.

"To me, it's you" he says.

My eyes get big as I step back for a second. There was no way this was happening. No way.

"Patrick you have a table full of people waiting for you to come back. I don't know much about you but I know you're here with people who are much better suited for you. Who can afford to ignore troubles in life and rationalize spending money in places like this. Or who can dress up like this in the drop of a dime. Cherish that... because once someone sees past all of that, there's no going back" I warn.

Finally I move past him and get to the back where I am supposed to be. I try my best to hide until he was gone because I saw him still looking around. Finally Patrick goes back to the front of the house where he is supposed to be too. He sits with his friends and wears a smile as well as a nerd wears a sports jersey. The laughs were about as fake as the smile too. As I watch him I can see, as bright as day, those are people he keeps around because it makes him comfortable. Comfortable enough to spend all this money to have fruitless conversations and cheap laughs.

I don't get how this man keeps finding me, or why he would want to. It is a mystery to me, as many humans are. And I wasn't going to stress myself trying to figure it out.

My shift comes to an end so I change and thank the cooks for all the good work today. I walk out the back where a homeless man was stationed. I grab the food I bought and a few water bottles before setting the food next to him.

"Val I told you to stop getting me things" the old man begs.

"If I don't buy you dinner who will? You know the other homeless people sit in places people will see them to get help" I remind him.

"Maybe I don't want to be a burden to sweet people like you" he teases.

"I wouldn't have to take care of your ass if you weren't hiding back here all the time" I say as I sit across from him.

"Have you even eaten yourself" he asks me.

A defeated sigh falls all the way to my empty stomach. "No" I mumble.

"Please. Eat" he says trying to hand back the food.

"You really think that'll work" I ask as he laughs.

"No. But I had to try" he admits.

I sit with him as he eats and we talk. He tells me stories and I know they weren't real. The very concept of reality is made up anyway. But what was real was this man was his problems, and my ability to help.

After a while I head home. It's been a long day and I was ready for some sleep. So I toss my few belongings in the door and fall on the couch. A loud groan vibrates the pillow my face was in. What a day?

Eventually I pull myself off the couch and change and wash up. I look in the mirror trying to figure why Patrick was looking for me. What he was so hung up on? I didn't understand this feeling he gave me. Not at all. To feel wanted. To be seen. It's a foreign concept. And something I didn't want to be familiar.