Seeing that face again..

..I was lying on my couch, it had been hours since the sun had set, everyone in the house was asleep. Yet, it just did not feel like day-end. This was happening too often lately. A rather exhausting day, coming home from work, fighting the urge to slam the door shut and return to my own world. Instead, sitting there, amidst the curious faces, and having to answer those aimless questions.
''How was your day?'', mother would ask. I wish I could escape the lingering boredom that made its way through every word that came out of her mouth. I'd think, Even you know the answer will never be different, mom. I'd just nod and pretend I had no problem with everything in my life. Pretend that it was perfect. Because maybe, someday, I hoped it would.

This was another monotonous night. Another night of pointless sitting on the couch and sketching away to let the darkest of dreams evade my sleep and pour themselves on a rough sheet of paper. But it had been different recently. Altered, varied, distinct!
Countless nights, that I had spent sketching that same face. Slightly curved near the chin, a bold face, with a goatee that resembled someone I knew, someone I had known in the past, but where was he now? I shuddered at the thought of this face. Although I had sketched it out several times there was something about imagining it which creeped me. Instinctively, to escape the pain, I would always end up plotting it down on paper.

A sudden shimmer entered my eye, immediately I shut them. The night had already passed in my own company.
Life was too far-fetched. Everyone got out of high school, met a great guy, who earned well. Fell in love. Love. A certain ache that word caused. I avoided it, trying not to break my flow of thoughts.
They got married, had a kid, and continued a blissful life. But for me, it was different..

''Up so early?'', mom's voice drifted out of the kitchen, looking at me with half her eyes closed. I stared. Yes, that's what I did. As a matter of fact, that's all I did. Since always. It didn't bother her anymore like it did when I was younger. By now she was used to watching that pain flicker in my eyes, unaware of what it was, or because of whom it was caused.
Or maybe she knew. Didn't they say, moms always knew? Whatever. How would that help, anyway?
I gave no answer. Just looked away. She knew. It was another night. Another night when, just like every other frequent night, insomnia had taken over me, left me unaided, on that rugged couch. She walked away. She walked away. Just like everyone in my life had done so far

I wish I could laze around. But no, I got up and within the next 35 minutes, I was bathed, dressed up neatly for another usual day.

***

I walked into the office. Everyone was smiling. I wondered how. Holy shit. Smile. Yes, a smile, I had to manage that everyday. Otherwise I knew what results it would inflict on my course of social life, not that I had one.

The hallway was unusually crowded today, not very normal for a slow Thursday, I'd say. Trying to make my way through the huge human population, which seemed to have been clubbed on the same floor today, I turned around to check the time on the humongous office clock. BUT. I saw something else, something more beautiful, more elegant, more sober. Something even my sketches of the previous few nights could not describe that well. Standing in front of the reception, was the same bold face. The perfect curve of his chin, the very same goatee.

Adrenaline rush.

Only he could do that to me. And he was here. Here. Why was he here? Oh, I didn't care. I was loosing balance. Unconsciousness was taking over. I knew what was happening. What ached to even think of, was taking place. Again. This time, even stronger. I had tried to forget the face for too long, but now the milk had been spilt. Damage done. I was falling in love with him, again..