Feelings~Short Story

I clutched the steering wheel, sharply turning into the parking lot. Jamming myself between a pickup and SUV I slammed my door after grabbing the keys. I felt the insides of my nose heat up as I rushed inside the building. This was the only sign I ever recognized as I felt water develop in my eyes. Referring back to the text I had received earlier, I made my way down the hall until I reached the very last door on my left, ignoring the complaints from the lobby at the other end. I stood facing the blank door, my hand resting on the knob.

I tried to compose myself. Standing and staring for longer than what was needed. I sniffed as a tear fell down my cheek easily and silently fell to the floor. My senses felt drained, all I could do was see. I tried to smell the stuffy, stale air but there was nothing. I tried to hear the sounds around me. The footsteps. Wheels on concrete. But nothing would work, it was useless. I was practically deaf. I tried to touch. I tried to feel the floor beneath me but my legs felt like balloons. They felt weightless and so did my whole body. I tried my last sense I could think of. Taste. I couldn't taste the beer I had just drank. I couldn't taste the last cigarette that I had smoked. I couldn't even taste my own saliva. I hadn't known saliva had a taste until then.

Something ticked in my brain and I pushed myself through the blank door staring at the bright, white room. I slowly made my way to the bed sitting down on the smooth but rough comforter and staring at the being in front of me.

***

I watched as he made his way across the bar and sat down. He bowed his head and held a light conversation with the bartender before the man left to grab him his drink. I watched his Hershey's colored hair fall into his face and his hazel eyes stir with frustration. But that's not all that I caught. His lips suggested sadness. His nose suggested hurt as I watched him sniff the air, though there was nothing there. I watched his cheeks cave in and push out, as if he was biting the insides of them and then letting go. I studied him. His emotional and physical behavior as it, like everyone's, was connected to each other. Though, I was never familiar with the first of the two, I was very keen to see them connect. The only way to tell this is by the knowledge I know as I seem to be lacking in the personal experience factor. I watched as the bartender walked up with a tall beer and set in front of him.

I stood up cautiously and made my way to the right side of him. "Please leave me alone. I don't feel like being hit on right now." He said in a raspy voice. His jaw set as he continued to look down at his legs. I looked around a second. The air seemed a little stuffier than normal that night. There was barely any street light shining through the large windows and the soft music added to the 'tone'. Though I didn't quite understand what that 'tone' would be or what a 'tone' really is.

"Believe it or not, that's not why I'm here." I said, feeling the familiar wrong tinge with the way he had responded to me sitting beside him.

"Why were you staring at me?" He asked his voice still raspy, from what seemed like years and years of doing nothing but sobbing constantly. Or smoking. Or both. I didn't mention this though as I shrugged lightly. I never really knew why I was so interested in watching people. I guess, it's because of the realization I made that everyone had their own individual lives, including every single person in a crowd of people and I will never be able to know everyone's stories. I didn't tell him that either.

"Habit of mine." I looked over at the bartender and nodded, he hurried off fixing my usual drink. I had been working there for around 3 years and was one of the only places I really went to.

"Bad habit of yours."

"You could say that."

"Why are you over here?" He asked looking up for the first time. I saw his eyes recover from bloodshot and blotchy quite quickly as he took in the sight of me.