Lost Without Your Light

Getting over you

Getting over you

It's the next morning, I put on a purple sleeveless dress that reaches up to my knees and I wear a pair of white sneakers. I apply mascara to my eyes and Chap stick onto my lips. I head downstairs with my guitar; I find my mom in the kitchen pouring milk in a glass.

"Good morning mom," I say as I hop off the last stair.

"Morning," she mumbles taking a sip from her glass.

"How did your performance go last night?" She asks.

"I didn't perform..." I let out.

"What? Why?" She sighs.

"Dylan picked me up late but that's why I'm dressed, I rescheduled for today," I say setting my guitar down on the kitchen floor.

"Maddie," she starts as I grab a water bottle from the fridge.

"Yes," I smile.

"I know you and Dylan broke up," she blurts out.

"How?" I say as I take a sip of my water.

"He called me," she casually says.

I choke on my water, "What did he tell you?"

"Nothing, he just said that he wants you to take your things from his house," she says.

"He said that?" I say as my fake smile turns to a real frown.

She nods.

"Cool," I nod as well.

"Aren't you going to the café that Dylan works at?"

"Yeah, why?" I say.

"Nothing, it's just that, you just broke up, isn't it awkward to see him after the fight?" She asks.

"Not really, I'm just going to pretend like he isn't there," I puff.

"Wow, dating has changed from when I was young. When your father and I got into fights I try to avoid him," she explains.

I puff grabbing my guitar, "I'll catch you later," I wave and she lightly smiles as I head out the front door.

I open the car door and set my guitar and wallet in the back seat of my car. I close the back door and I get into the driver's seat.

"Wow, it's been a while since I've driven," I talk to myself. I back-up and out of the drive-way and drive down to the street. I open the radio to get away from what I heard from my mom. I really did a good job holding it in front of her. I'm glad I didn't burst crying right then and there. I can't believe he wants me to take my stuff. I understand... we broke up. I'm going to show you what you're missing.

"Dylan Fox didn't you say I'm too dependent on you. Fine then, I'll show you independence," I say with a scoff over the sound of the radio.

After a couple of minutes, I pull over at the parking lot, close to the back door of Lovers Café on Coachview Street of New York City. I grab my guitar and phone from the back seat of my car and I walk into the café.

As I walk in I hear calm music playing, and it sounds like it's coming from the little stage upfront. I spot the manager standing at the same place as last night but he's wearing different clothes.

I walk up to him, "Good morning sir," I say.

"Good morning," he says.

"I came early today," I smile at him as I jump a bit to show my excitement. I stop smiling as I notice Dylan in his uniform, a red shirt with a pin that has his name on it, and a pair of worn out jeans. He's wiping a table across from me, in front of the stage, then he looks at me with his starry eyes looking low-spirited. I stop looking at him even though I can still feel him looking at me.