Good Morning Sentimental Woman (Fiction)

I think I fell in love tonight.

It was a funny thing. I hadn’t actually planned on falling in love with somebody, especially falling in love so out of the blue. My rationale was as such: there was no rationale. It was simply non-existent. Just my brain altering my sub-conscious thoughts so that every thought I had had her face in it somewhere. Suddenly, I was no longer a normal man so much as a gibbering shell of a human being.

I found her sitting on a park bench one night, crying. I had just left a pedestrian “GO TEAM!” office get-together, looking forward to getting home and getting to bed. My fellow assholes could not get to me in either place, and any place they could not get to me was a paradise that I almost felt I didn’t deserve; as though this paradise is something that is usually reserved for saints upon their death. Every footstep I took outside was one step closer to freedom and one step closer to clearing my mind. At least until I saw this poor thing on a park bench isolated and emotional. The few drinks I had opened up my sociability a bit more than usual, but not so overbearing that I became and obnoxious jerk.

She looked up for a brief moment and saw my approach. I should elaborate a bit: I only noticed her due to the fact that we had met before. It wasn’t much more than an introductory handshake and a few too many rounds of Quarters, but it was enough for me to remember. I doubt I would have bothered otherwise.

“Hey. Hey, what’s wrong, um, ma’am?” Shit, I had forgotten her name.

Her hysterics had done their damage: she was barely coherent. Piercing together what words I could, I gathered that it involved relationship troubles of some sort. It could’ve been a fight, a breakup or an affair. Who knows?

“I’m sorry to hear that (I guess?). Would you like to talk about it?” I was getting bold all of a sudden. “Either way, we should both be getting out of here. It’s late, some crackhead could be on the prowl, waiting to mug us or something.”

She managed to get herself back together for a response. “Sorry. I appreciate you coming over, but I just don’t feel like it right now.” Well, shit. “But, maybe I could get your number? Maybe when I’m feeling better we could!”

I did, and then I walked away. Our short conversation replayed in my mind over and over again, as though I was examining the events for a continuity error made along the way. Climbing into my car, I turned the radio up as loud as I could. I wanted to force something else into my head. I failed. All I could do was think about this sad, lonely girl feeling so alone. It was a foolish thought, but I wanted to do more. My mind had made itself up for me, so whether I liked it or not, I had fallen into the cliched pitfall called “Love at First Sight.” I just wanted to see her without dark streams of mascara or a puffy red face as her world crumbled around her. I was selfish like that.

But before I knew it, I was home. Back to my wonderful “paradise.” Good night.