A Valentines Day Thought

It was cloudy with light rain off and on most of the day on Valentine's day. I had spent Christmas in the Philippines, enjoying it immensely, but the feeling had faded away and I found an underlying sadness creeping in again.

I didn't want to be "with" anyone, but I didn't want to be alone either. After a few drinks, I decided more drinks were needed as well as a nice view, so I did something uncharacteristic of me. I went to a girly bar.

Most of the bar girls noticed I was drinking with a mission - to get just drunk enough to make the illusion a little more believable, so they mostly steered clear of me.

The few who were not as skilled at reading the punters or perhaps were desperate due to the start of low season were quickly shooed away so I could drink in peace.

I was happily "in the zone" as I like to put it. Feeling good but not so good as to show my ass. Just a peaceful haze as I reminisced about lost loves, opportunities missed and the things that had not gone to plan. All resulting in me being in an unnamed girly bar in the Philippines, alone on Valentine's day.

I had lost the concept of time, and frankly didn't care to know, when a dancer suddenly sat down in the chair across from me.

"I'm sorry my dear, but I'm not looking for company tonight." I apologized to her, hoping she would get the hint and go pester someone else.

"I know." She replied without looking at me. "I need a break and I knew you were safe. So, if you don't mind, let me sit here and talk with you for a minute. I get in trouble if I don't at least look like I'm trying to get a customer."

"By all means then, welcome." I announced the withdrawal of my objection to her presence and officially invited her to join me despite her already being here.

"I'm curious." I engaged her as she seemed to be a lot more intelligent than the average pole polisher. "How did you know I am safe."

"Easy. I recognize someone who has died many times. It's written all over your face." She replied, raising her glass to her mouth to sip the drink I could smell from across the table - Filipino "gin".

"What do you mean I've died many times?" I was practically begging her to continue. The possibility of an intelligent conversation intrigued me.

"You, or the person you were, has been killed many times by people who betrayed you. Each time you are murdered a new 'you' is reborn in his place, but always at a cost. When you were young, it was your innocence that was destroyed first. Then your trust, your hope and finally your ability to love yourself and others." She looked at me directly in the eyes as she said it. The very corners of her mouth curled ever so slightly as she recognized she was correct. I could not deny it. Every word was exactly true.

"And you saw all of that in my face?" I asked.

"Yes, it's all there." She looked down, a little sympathy showing from her.

"What about you? What do you see in your own face?" I tried to steer the conversation away from me. I didn't think there was anything interesting about my story, but I wanted to hear her's.

"You can never see yourself as well as you can see others." She looked through me to a point a million miles away. "Sometimes I see the little girl I was in the mirror, and sometimes I see the woman I'm destined to become, but I can never see myself as I am right now. It's like trying to look directly at the sun. You just can't see it clearly."

"Wow, that is deep." I thought to myself. I wondered how much of this was the alcohol talking and how much of it was real. If it is what she actually said, it would be the most profound thing I've ever heard.

"Well then." I finally broke the silence. "Here's to blissful ignorance."

We touched glasses and she finished her drink.

"I've got to get back to work." She announced. "Thank you for letting me share your table for a while Thomas."

As she got up, I wondered how she knew my name. I had never told her. Am I that drunk?

She walked past me, and I smelled her perfume. It took me to a more pleasant place.

I don't know if it was in my head or her singing as she walked away, but I heard the high pitched, soft melody quietly drifting in the air:

Dream with me

The world could be better

Run away with me

We'd always be together

Before you die-i

Sing a lul-la-by

I turned to look over my shoulder but she vaporized into the group of dancers shuffling around the poles with the thousand yard stare plastered on their painted up faces. She was gone.