December 23rd, 2024

Pool cues on the wall.

Pink Pony Club hummed through the speakers.

Divorced dad rock in the jukebox queue.

Everyone singing along in the Christmas spirit.

Most of the people here wear the same look—slumped shoulders, drinks clutched too tight. You can feel the ache behind their laughter.

And she’s here.

Smiling.

Radiant.

Different.

Unique.

Whole.

“How are you holding up?”

She asked me. For some reason—

It made me nervous. Why? Was it her generosity or curiosity? The subtle smell of vanilla floating through the air? Why did she care? Every possible thought ran through my mind. Until she smiled and I felt peace. I felt at ease. With a tinge of vulnerability.

Realistic pessimism coursing through my veins.

Hollowed and indignant relief.

But I responded, as I always do—

With a smile and slight optimism.

But she saw right through me.

All my shame, fear, and beliefs.

And in that moment—

I didn’t feel completely alone.

Read the Next Poem:

Split Memory