I sit, with my laptop in my favourite cafe looking out of the window, waiting, waiting. I glance at my watch. it's exactly 8:34 am, 4 minuets after she's usually here. Then I notice the slender figure,walking briskly towards the train station, I sigh in relief. of course, she's fine, just the tiniest bit off schedule. I shut down my laptop, I had no work anyway. I pay the bill for my coffee and pick up my bag. As I get up I can feel people's eyes saunter over to me, pretending not to look but sneaking stolen glances at me every couple of seconds. sighing, I check my watch despite already knowing the time and walk out.
I'm used to stares. to be honest I got used to them a while ago. half of my face is burned, the skin scarred and calloused, the other half is apparently 'handsome', which is even worse really. I can tell people think it's a waste of my 'good looks'. but it's not my fault that humanity destroyed and pollouted the world to the extent of acid rain with a pH of 2. of course now there are special reinforced, lightweight alloy umbrellas to protect people. but this particular downpour was unexpected, or it wasn't, I wouldn't know as I never watch the news: it annoys me. I'd never valued my looks, it's not like we need models anymore. pulling my mind away from these toxic thoughts I see I've arrived at the station, my feet navigating the way on instinct. my eyes fiercely scan the crowd searching for her. there she is. Luna. I sigh, remembering the time, not too long ago, that we used to date. I realize that I'm the ex - boyfriend that stalks their ex because they're still in love with them. I can't help it though. before her I never felt emotions, only physical pain. she's the only person who made me feel something. I always thought that there was something wrong with me, that I was a masochist. reading about love and happiness was the only way I could ever experience emotions. up until I met her. I'm lucky that our jobs coincide. it's the only way I see her every day without stalking her. I don't want to go back to the way I was before: phlegmatic and unapproachable. I want to be the person I was when I was with her. but I can't that's impossible now.