The Omen

My salvation lies in your love.
But sister, you know I’m so weary.
And you know sister, my hearts been broken.
Sometimes, sometimes, my mind is too strong to carry on.

There was a man at the pizza place tonight, sitting by himself, with a leather pocket book on the table and a pink rose. He looked polished, in his mid 40’s, graying hair, with a black jacket, grey pants, and black shoes. His socks were white, but I won’t hold it against him.

He was staring out the window. I assume he’s just finished a date, or is celebrating some sort of event, and the night in now closing in. I don’t see a lot in his eyes, and he barely moved; he just sat there, with no pizza, just staring out the window.

There are two girls at the next table eating pizza. They just finished up watching the remake of the Omen and were talking about it. That’s where I was tonight also. I was watching the Omen with a young gay boy who is struck with me and his friend.

The man suddenly lets out loud laugh. He’s laughing and mumbling things, and then it seems as if he is crying. We all look up stunned, not expecting this well-dressed and taken care of man to just burst out in this psychotic episode. I make eye contact with the two girls and we question each other with our eyes.

He suddenly slides back into his catatonic state, staring out the window again. Than a few minutes later, another burst of laughter and mumbling. As unsettling as it was, I wonder what happened to him. Is it a live of now being alone that is affecting his mental state? What went wrong?

In a virtue of ruins, I walk back to my car and drive home. Alone; leaving my friends behind in a crowd of moviegoers to fend for themselves. I’m seeing Gary this Thursday, and we are open, forward, and honest about what we think about each other. We have already taken it to a level I’m comfortable with; if I don’t shed my guards I’ll never let anyone else in.

In a virtue of dreams, I can only imagine the life that will follow. I met men all the time. I charm them into my bed, than I pick apart why it should never happen. Its distance, it’s his way of eating, lack of education; I will chalk up any excuse to get away from intimacy. But I’m ready again. I swear this time I’m ready. I want to be the hopeless romantic who gets caught again.