Many of my younger years were wasted; I now sat in the back of a crowded bar. The sour smoke fogged the room, tasteless pings and beats of pathetic music echoed from the front, and a bitter aftertaste was left in my mouth after so many sips, so many tiny sips of a single beer. I hid in this disgusting place because no one thought to find me there. Until today that is. From the other side of the tavern, I heard the creaking pang of the door as it opened and the soft taps of probably leather boots across plain wood floor. A beautifully gentle voice asked for the location of a common customer. Asked for me. I shuddered with the memory of who it might be and tried to cower and slink into the smog around me. The taps grew louder. A silhouette drew itself in the white. Soon, before me stood a gorgeous young lady with modest, but sexy, garments and long feathery hair. A dappled pretty face slightly smiled while her bright jade eyes slightly glared. She must have wondered why I was here. Why I ran. The alto word came from her lips, "Why?"

               To be honest, I had to lie to her. I couldn't simply tell her that I loved her more than she could ever imagined, so I coughed midway in a deep breath from the tickling sensation of the heavy smoke. Achingly, I rose from the rusty steel chair, dust floating from my coat and slacks. I was an antique in this life, just stacked in a pub with no where to go. I finally forced words through my dry, flaky mouth, "No reason. Simply couldn't stand being around much more. Had to get away."

               Confusion swept her face. Her smile and glare faded. With that, I strolled pass her and beyond her, walking towards the exit of the bar. As I neared the escape from more conflict, I heard a squeak. A squeak warning me of some sort of hurt.  She told me to wait. Wait for what? Why? Just wait. So I did. I waited for minutes, an hour maybe, before she spoke. She spoke in such a convicting way, such an accusing manner. "She told me," she being my current affection. "She told me all about it. How you imagined strange things. How you dreamed of me rather than her. How you hid your emotions from her for years. She told me. I want to know from you. I want to hear you say it. Do you love me?"

               My eyes, a bit watery, from the words, from the sting in the air, darted down. While I stared down, I noticed a fine layer of dust and dirt on my polished boots, dust and dirt from a life of covering everything, a life to continue as it was. I raised my head; a tear rolled down my cheek. Cocking my head to see her in the corner of my eye, I whispered. A whisper that she only heard in this crowded bar. "No."

               Her breath shuddered, a slight whimper as her heart shattered. As did mine. I winced to her pain, for I shared it. I had lied. Deeply did I love her, but it was not I for her. She wished for jovial adventures, but I wished for aging loneliness. I cursed myself to wither in a silent mind, to decay in my words and to live with my pen. Never would she have the soft word unless written, never would she have the gentle touch without indifference. It would be agonizing, and neither one of us would endure it. I heard her weep again. I heard her crush more.

               Refusing my own tears, I dreaded my pace to the heavy oak door. Coughing and sobbing ever so quietly, I forced my arm to push. The creaks echoed with her whimpers and tears in the depths of me. Lovely moon slivers snuck into the bar as I left. Shine brightened her and left her again. I had to leave. Far away from my lies. Far away from her love, her pain.

               As I reached the end of the dark, forlorn street, my glance flashed for a memory. The tavern, my escape, faded into engulfing shadows until nothing more than a weak silhouette stood. My stare did not break. There she was, alone in the silver of the moon, in the center of the road, shivering. Underneath the freckled, dappled stars, she sobbed, shedding her gorgeous eyes of all the sorrow and love as reflections twinkled in the moonlight.