Miss You, Love You

Prologue

Staring out the glass wall of my apartment, cup of tea in hand, I studied the cold, rainy street below. It had been pouring for three days straight and as much as I liked a spring shower it was getting to be a little overkill. The steam from my Herbal Lemon tea fogged up the windows so much that I couldn't see. I wiped a little portal on the pane with the sleeve of my cream knit sweater and sighed. Water beaded on the cuff and I quickly wiped the moisture on my jeans.

. My apartment was a small, cozy abode with one bedroom and bath. I used the tiny bedroom as an office and slept on the futon converted to couch in the living room. I worked three jobs every summer so that I could afford classes and not have a room mate. I generally didn't like sociallizing with people constantly and avoided lengthy conversations whenever I could. I was a English Lit major and I definitely fit the stereotype. I was a quiet reserved girl that liked art and books. One wall of my living room was full of them. I had all the classics and I loved the scent and feel of the pages of old literature. I enjoyed to read and curling up with a good book after work or classes was a welcome escape. I sat on the carpeted floor next to the ceiling to floor panes of glass, hugging my mug for warmth.

My ex, Marc, had been a medical student which was probably the only reason I went out with him. His charming good looks and intelligence had struck me right away because I knew I couldn't be with someone who was sloppy or unpredictable. His impeccable routine and mannerisms had been a welcome comfort since past loves and high school sweethearts. I was ready to move on. Whether that was stepping out of my comfort zone or going to the bar across the street every Friday.

 I can't believe I had even got an apartment in this area of town. It was within walking distance of the university and thats the only thing that I had been looking for at the time. It was a bit skeevy but not so much that I would get killed walking to the corner store for candy at midnight. I had grown fond of the bartender from 'Cactus Blues', the bar across the street. The first night I went to the bar he could tell that I was a little shy and looked out for me. Lyle was nice guy and I appreciated him being there as I was a single girl amongst a throng of men. I liked his jokes and his colorful stream of swear words in his conversations. His band played frequently at the bar and I liked to go and see him once and a while.

I got up off my rug to refill my mug when something caught my eye from across the street. The door to the Cactus' opened and Lyle pushed a stumbling figure out. I could tell he was cursing without even having to lip read. Lyle shook his head and shut the door with a slam. I watched the figure run his hands over his thin t-shirt and tattoo clad arms. He kicked a puddle and yelled an obscenity. I stared at the man like a teenage girl stares at a bad romance movie in rapture. He sank down to the glowing lamp post and ran a hand thru his damp hair. I had seen a lot of drunk guys come out of that bar but he looked different. The sad, dejected slump of his shoulders maybe? It was almost like I could hear his sigh from inside my warm apartment. His hand gingerly went to his ribs and I could see his shoulders move sharply as he took in a breath. I couldn't see his face, but as a sudden vow of spontaneity I decided to go see if he was alright. I was on the first floor but I had to go through the lobby to go outside. I had a faded navy nautical print umbrella that I grabbed from a hook behind my door that I opened up. It swayed and almost caved in on itself with the wind and rain. I crossed the wet street to where Mystery Man was still sitting in the damp gutter, under the light. It had to be almost 10, but I had forced myself to turn off my phone and computer for the night and buried them under a stack of papers in my office to avoid distractions, so I didn't know for sure.  

"Do you need hel... Oh my God! Are you ok?" I squatted down beside him and looked at his injuries. His nose was bleeding and his eyebrow and lip were split, leaving watery trails of blood down his face. His face pulled into a small smile. "Yeah." He shot me a nail in the coffin smile and tried to get up. I watched out of amusement as he slipped back into the puddle under the non-existent traction of his worn black boots.