Gerard's POV
I saw him staring at me, his gentle eyes peering bullets through me, and that's when I realized that I had been staring at him just as intensely. I had been lost in thought, thinking about some other life I could've lived. I didn't know him very well but I knew of him. He was friends with some of my friends and we had spoken a few times. We were a couple of lonely strangers in the corner of parties we never wanted to be at but we found momentary solace in one another's presence. I blinked and my eyelids flashed his smile even when they were closed. It was like his image had been tattooed inside my eyelids and I really didn't mind because he was Frank and, though I'd never admit it out loud, I loved him. I was used to seeing him in dimlit, smoke filled basements where we would talk for hours over a couple of beers and where I felt we really got to know one another... more than that really, where I felt we really got to see one another. He saw me for who I was and I felt like he showed me himself. He'd seen scars on my soul that I didn't even know I had. If only I had the courage to tell him what I thought of him, maybe he thought of me the same way, though I doubt it. I hadn't seen him in so long. I had resorted to isolating myself from everyone for awhile when things were too bad to take and I wouldn't know if he looked for me because even I was hiding from myself. In this moment, I can still remember the way his eyes shone when he spotted me hiding in a corner so many years ago. I could hear his laugh echo through the room though his mouth was closed. Memories of him flooded back to me and a smile found it's way to my lips. I tilted my head down, trying to keep my smile from making it's way across the room.
When I looked up, I saw a woman enter the shop and walk towards him. Her gait appeared effortless and serene. His eyes tore from mine and focused on her, recognizing her and I saw them smile. He was waiting for her. I guess it was stupid of me to think that because we used to share so much, that it would matter now. I wonder if my image was tattooed in his mind as his was mine. I wonder if he meant to catch my gaze or if he himself had been lost in space. I suppose that, to him, I am nothing more than a stranger now, nothing more than a stranger in a coffee shop that he never really meant to catch the gaze of.
