Issues

Advice

We arrived back in New York in the evening. Locking the door behind me, I turn around and face it. A dark, silent, empty apartment stares back at me and I can feel my anxiety building in my chest. "I can't do this. Not tonight" I say aloud as I drop my luggage where I stood and head out the door. My thoughts begin to race and before I know it, I'm stepping out into the crisp, nighttime air only to gaze upon a  familiar entrance. Opening the door, the familiar smell envelops my nose again. The smell of Chrome. Within an instant, I can feel myself breathe again. I stroll to the bar top and before I can give my order, the bartender from the last time I was here hands me a glass and says, "Scotch. Double. On the house". "Thank you. Wait, how did you remember that? I've only been in here once? It was a week ago too" I replied with a sense of surprise. "Well, I know who you are even though most people around here don't seem to recognize you. Plus, most women don't drink this. It sticks out" he replied before he turned to tend to the next customer.

Looking around, I can see that the place has obviously generated a larger crowd. Damn. My spot is taken. Actually, there really isn't much room left. Then I see it. Two seats further down the bar top, one of them being where she sat completely peaceful all on her own just about a week ago. I settle for sitting in the seat next to it and begin flipping through Instagram and casually sipping on my drink.

"Excuse me, is this seat taken?" a gentle voice asks me. Looking up from my phone, I realize it's an old man. He most definitely is the cutest old man I've seen in my life. He's got the vibe of your stereotypical sweet grandpa. I flash him a big smile and encourage him to sit down next to me. "My heavens young lady. You have such a beautiful smile" he says looking me right in the eyes. "Aww. Why thank you. You're quite the gentleman I must say" I reply flashing him another smile. "May I be a little bold with you?" he furthers. "Um sure" I reply feeling intrigued at what he's going to say or do. The old man looks me in the eyes, practically peering straight to my soul, and says, "Tell me dear. Your smile is beautiful and projects that you're happy. But... your eyes.... they say something different. They're sad... guarded... full of pain. Why is that?"

"Oh. Wow. Umm" I replied admittedly shocked by his question. Holding my hand and flashing a gentle smile, he said, "I'm sorry for being so forward. I just saw you sitting here and I don't know... I thought I might be able to pass on some of my wisdom".  I looked into this man's eyes and saw that he was in fact being very genuine. There was a part of me that felt like I could open up, even if it were only a little bit.

"Well. I guess you're right. I am very guarded and I am in a lot of pain. I think it stems from my tours overseas in the military. I.... saw a lot of things.. I did things that I can't get out of my mind. I lost people I cared about and maybe it's just been too painful to deal with. So I hide behind a smile" I say with tears building in my eyes, clouding my vision, and begging to fall down my face. Squeezing my hand a little tighter he said, "I know what you mean my dear. You close your eyes, and the images torment you. You try and dull the pain with alcohol. You hate being alone but you refuse to let anyone in for fear they won't be able to handle your baggage. I hit rock bottom a year after I returned from war. I had lost everything, was homeless, and lost all my friends. I was sitting on a street corner, contemplating suicide, when this beautiful women sat down next to me. To make a long story short, she took me to a nearby restaurant, bought me anything I wanted to eat, and took me back to her place to shower and freshen up. We talked for hours and hours. I felt like I was more than just some dirty, pathetic homeless man to her. Jump to 3 years later, and there we were. On the beach, hand in hand, and getting married before friends and family. This woman changed my life. She brought me out of the darkness. My advice to you would be to allow yourself to feel the things that have happened in your past. Mourn your losses. Feel. Really feel. Even if it seems unbearable. Then, I challenge you to let someone in. Let them see the real you. Don't let the fear paralyze you because pure happiness could be a constant in your life. You deserve that".

Listening to this man pour his heart out to me and give me deep and meaningful advice struck me to my core. It was just the thing that I needed to hear. Every word that came out of his mouth was the God's honest truth. I couldn't help the tears the softly fell from my face as he spoke. Standing up, the old man lovingly cupped my face in his hands, wiped away my tears, kissed my forehead, and said, "That's it... feel... remember... you deserve to be happy. Something tells me that there are still great things ahead for you. I hope one day we will meet again and I can see your smiling face with equally joyful eyes".

I couldn't help but smother him with a huge hug and thank him for his words of wisdom. "Wait, I never got your name. I'm Emily Fields" I say while shaking his hand. With a charming little smile, the old man said, "Walter Scott. Goodnight to you Emily Fields".

I sincerely hope I see this man again.

After the Walter leaves, I sit back down in my seat and wipe away excess tears. Fearing people will notice that I've been crying, I attempt to compose myself and stop sniffling. The buzzing of my phone indicating an incoming call forces me to hasten my attempt to compose myself. "Hey Han, what's up" I answer. Sounding peeved, Hanna replies, "Emily.... are you at a bar? We just got home! Forget it. Anyway, I called to tell you that the photographer from Milan got the editor of the magazine to make you the cover girl for next month. I'll text you the picture they're thinking of using when they get it to me. Em.. this is great for your career. This is huge exposure. There is just one catch. They want to fly you back to Italy to do a lengthy sit down interview. You up for that?". "Uh well... yea I guess I can do that. I'll call you tomorrow okay? Thank you Hanna" I replied before hanging up.

I was so caught up in the phone call that I totally didn't register that someone was sitting down next to me. I look to my side and see strappy black heels, dark wash jeans, a simple white top, and a blonde with her hair in a twisted updo. Swiveling around in her seat, I get a better look at this woman's face. I let out an audible gasp. It's her. It's really her.