Pulse and Petals

Alec

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I step into the restaurant, my mind preoccupied with the day's events. I didn't even have time to change out of my scrubs before coming here. As I glance around, I see her sitting there, already waiting for me. Her eyes are fixed on her wrist, checking the time, and when she lifts her head and our eyes meet across the room, I find it hard to breathe.

I move closer to her, unable to tear my gaze away from hers. Her eyes are the most beautiful I've ever seen—black and deep, like endless pools that I could drown in without ever reaching the bottom. There's something about them that draws me in, captivating me in a way I can't explain.

******

She's so engrossed in explaining her ideas for the engagement party that I find myself struggling to focus. I've never been one to tune out during meetings—I pride myself on being attentive and detail-oriented. But today, for some reason, I can't seem to concentrate on what she's saying.

Despite my lack of focus, I know she's good at this. I saw her presentation earlier, and it was impressive. But right now, all I can think about is how much I like the sound of her voice. It's like a warm touch, soothing and inviting.

Our moment is interrupted by the waiter, bringing our food. Well, my food at least. I ordered without even thinking, but she surprises me by ordering red velvet cupcakes. It's lunchtime, and she settled for cupcakes. There's something about her choice that intrigues me, adding to the mystery that seems to surround her.

"Thank you" she thanks the waiter, her voice soft and polite.

I acknowledge him with a nod, unable to tear my eyes away from her.

"Is everything alright?", her voice pulls me out of my trance, and I realize I've been staring at her unabashedly.

"Everything is fine", I manage to reply. As she gazes at me with those beautiful eyes, concern etched on her face, I realize that everything is not fine. In fact, far from it. A sense of realization hits me like a ton of bricks.

She doesn't remember me. Not even a flicker of recognition crosses her features. The realization stings like a fresh wound. She once didn't bring up The Vein, the place where we first met. I wanted to ask her so many things, but I didn't. I didn't get the opening. Of course I didn't. Because to her, I'm just another stranger.

The truth hits me hard. While I spent the last three months searching for her, she forgot about me completely. It's like I meant nothing to her, like our brief encounter meant nothing. A strange feeling of anger wells up inside me, mixing with the disappointment and hurt.

A wave of unfamiliar emotions washes over me, leaving me feeling disoriented and unsettled. I've never experienced this before—the desire to be recognized by someone, especially a woman. It's a foreign sensation, one that leaves me questioning everything I thought I knew about myself.

I've always prided myself on my independence, on my ability to keep my emotions in check. But now, in the presence of this woman, everything feels different. I find myself wanting her to see me, to acknowledge our connection, in a way that I've never wanted before.

It's a disconcerting realization, one that leaves me feeling vulnerable and exposed. What is happening to me?

The anger burns hotter within me, fueled by the knowledge that she doesn't remember me. But what cuts even deeper is how much she's affecting me despite that. I never wanted her to have this power over me, to consume my thoughts and emotions the way she has.