I spot you from the door of the bar. You do not notice me just yet, but I busy myself taking you in as I wait to be seated at your table. You are at your favourite spot – by the window because you love to watch the streets, especially at this time. Up against the forest green wall, because you like how stable it feels while you sit, and wait, and people-watch. You stand out amid the décor and carefully engineered colour scheme, wearing a garnet cocktail dress. You have carefully coordinated your makeup so as not to spoil the desired effect and your brass waves hang like a garland around your shoulders…not quite behaving. A little anxiously you check the time, or check the menu (again), or scribble in the pocket-sized notebook you bring everywhere just in case. Who needs company?

“Jake! Over here!” You spot me as the waiter leads me to the seat opposite.
“Hey beautiful”, I mean it this time, though you seem to miss that as you pull me in to a tight hug. Your white jasmine perfume welcomes me, and you are not shy about resting your chin on my right shoulder. “It’s been ages – how the hell are you?”
“Yeah, I’ve been great . . .” Hang on, I’m supposed to say something else here . . . but what? I pause a little and assume you have not clued into the fact that I have brought the conversation to a screeching halt. I focus on your eyes and forget that we are even speaking – even in the dim orange hue of the lounge, they are cerulean . . . “Wow”, I let it slip out completely unchecked and your nose creases a bit as you snigger at me, “What? Jeez Jake, we haven’t even had a drink yet!”

There is that smile again. I am eighteen, making an appearance at that stupid induction party and I am seeing that smile for the first time – for a glorious moment, nothing else is a priority. It is catching in every sense as I chuckle at my own stupidity, “Speaking of which – how about an Old Fashioned? You know, for old times and old timers?” I wink.
“Yeah, I’ll be singing Dolly songs later on”, you’ll never live that one down, “What about the Long Island Iced Tea, eh? Get a real party started in here!”

“No. Absolutely not – you’ll be dancing on the bar again, and I personally don’t want to relive that particular trip!”
“The one to A&E?”
“I think it goes without saying” You give me that mischievous look as I continue, “How about two very sophisticated gin Martinis? I think we’re that little bit older now – we need to at least attempt to rid ourselves of our uni-drinking habits?”

“Sounds good to me” you catch me by surprise with a new light in your expression . . . I thought I had seen all your looks. It dims and saddens a little as you reach across the table for my hands, which rest on top of each other in a closed somewhat guarded manner. You lean closer and say lovingly, “I’ve missed you” I only need to look in your eyes, and immediately, you know.

You gently squeeze my hands, and we hold each other’s gaze, and time hesitates, reluctant to leave.
There is that warm tender smile again – breathing new air into old embers, unpacking old memories from rooms in my heart long forgotten.

You know me all too well.