We leave the hotel that night to meet with some friends for dinner. I wish it could've been just the two of us like we had initially planned, but I keep that to myself. We arrive first and get a table for the group.
"Oh, they have hot sake here!" I say excitedly. "Have you ever had it before?" She shakes her head in response. "Well, you have to try it then." I order one for us to share and we begin drinking. The rest of the group shows up, and we spend the next few hours eating, drinking and chatting. While we talk, I put my arm around her shoulder as I speak to her. It feels comforting, completely natural, I rationalize in my inebriated state. But that selfish comfort is short-lived, as she taps my hand to tell me to remove it, and I comply. A few minutes later, I laugh at something she says, and rest my hand on her thigh. With little hesitation, she brushes it off.
Immediately I am reminded of the sobering reality that we do not, and never will, have such a familiar relationship. From that moment, the rest of the night drones on without me; I am present in body but my mind is completely absent. My thoughts are consumed with envy for her significant other, and I am weighed down by the guilt of my indefensible actions and feelings. I plead for the night to end, but it ruthlessly continues against my wishes. I sneak away to wallow in my own self pity. I no longer have a place here, or so I think.
Eventually, the evening's events finally come to an end. I begin walking with her back to the hotel as she drunkenly holds my hand for stability. As we walk, side by side with our fingers interlocked, she breaks the silence.
"Were you crying?"
I chuckle sheepishly, "No, I'm fine."
"But your face was wet, and your eyes are red and puffy. That means you were crying," she insists.
"Okay, I was crying," I admit, "but you don't have to worry," I smile, "I'm fine now."
"And why did you leave karaoke without telling anyone? I was worried."
"It looked like you were having fun, and I didn't want to pull you away from that."
"No," she whines, "It's not fun if you're not there. I want you there."
Her words pierce my heart instantly, and I pull her into an embrace which she accepts. "That means more to me than you could possibly understand," I say tearfully, "I'm sorry, it won't happen again."
She is ruthless. Even in her drunken state, she immediately recognizes my sorrow, and refuses to back down until I share the burden with her. Effortlessly, she identifies the true source of my pain, and reassures me exactly as I need in such a simple way, it makes me wonder why I let it bother me in the first place. The compassion she shows me, the innocent love she feels toward me, are exactly why I am so enchanted with her.
"Come on," I say, "let's get you back."
