There’s a hollow feeling that sits in behind your sternum when you’re left behind. Somehow an emptiness hangs inside where your ribs meet and fills with a cold heavy vacuum. Dinner was lovely, but afterwards I was ditched alone on a downtown corner, watching my friends walking away without looking back. Really, I know I am a fool. There was a game at my elementary school actually called “ditch Jhayne”. I should be glad I’ve reached Wednesday midnight without being stood up. This past month, it’s a record. The day I get used to it is the day I’m no longer a good friend to anyone.
Walking home I ran into Alicia, I showed her the ticker tape sticker on my stocking and she laughed. Made me smile. Enough so that I stood up straight again as I walked. There was a group of older gentleman farther up who stopped to look at me. A great seriousness in how they told me they liked how I dressed. “A good eye” I can only admire and love the gravity of their respect. One man, he bowed to me and another asked if I were an actress. Old world grace and silver hair who wanted me to know that I understood his appreciation of my head to toe plum. It occurred to me two steps too late to proclaim a time for coffee to the one who bowed with such civility. The moment would have been perfect. I should have called out a time and place. “Next Wednesday, Roma’s, three o’clock”. I would have gone too, brought dark chocolate for him. An afternoon of thank you. We would have sat together drinking bitter espresso in tiny cups, while surrounded by conversation in languages he would try to teach me a few words of. In the world where it happened, it was wonderful and I made a friend.