It was raining. The entire world seemed grey, like one of those scenes you see in movies, with the black clad people wandering the streets in coats and silver and black umbrellas. Some of those people were out and about, walking slowly away from the lines and out into town, their moods seeming to be as down as the weather was.

I could relate. I was feeling the same way. Leaning against a cold brick wall, my hands in my pockets, shivering with the remnants of the cold that had plagued me for days, waiting. She was late again. But then, since when has a person of the female persuasion being late been a cause for surprise? Not this time, sure enough.

The cold was seeping in through my clothes. It had been a warm morning at work, and I’d dressed accordingly, but was starting to regret it now. No, not starting. I was really regretting it, wishing I could just pick up and leave, head off home to do some work, perhaps some ironing, or maybe do some more writing of my novel. But I stayed, regardless.

I should have known better, looking back at it now. But everyone does things on impulse now and again, stupid or wise, it’s hard to tell until it’s gone through and dealt with, whatsoever it may be. Perhaps this was my impulse of the month. Or maybe of the week, I can be a bit impulsive at times.

After an interminable wait, she did show up, wrapped in a scarf and a coat. She looked almost as miserable as I felt, and didn’t say much as she walked up to me, we just got in the car and left. Didn’t really go far, just to a café nearby… which is ironic, really, as neither her nor I care for coffee. Still, saying that you’re going for coffee is a tad more masculine than going for a latté or a hot chocolate, despite what certain Nestlé ads on television might advise you.

Anyway, we talked for a bit, and kind of sorted things out. Everyone’s been in that situation at some point, or will be, I guess. It was painful, though, looking at her and thinking how it wasn’t likely this would ever happen again. Not in the same way. I think she felt a bit the same way too, but then she hasn’t been very talkative lately. Not to me, at least.

We sat and talked about nothing for a while, but soon we were just chasing each other in circles, really. Hard as it is to say, it was a bit of a relief when it was time to take her back to the station. Five minutes, a brief hug and a wave later, and we were done. I watched her walk away, and those of you who’ve been there will know how hard it was to not call after, or try to stop her from going. I managed it, somehow, but now I almost wish I had gone after her. You always get a case of the “If only’s” after its done, don’t you… well, I did, anyway, all the way home and back to work again. Even now, I’m trying not to call her, just to hear her voice again, just for a moment.

One of the things a few people say about me is I always seem to be playing games with those around me. In some ways this is true, putting a tone of unreality over the world around me helps me to cope with depression at times. It was only a matter of time, then, until someone played a game with me.

Alcata’riel.

-Andiyar