The human heart was—and remains—a mystery to me. But I’m learning. I have to. —Anthony Bourdain

Star: A stab at fiction

I don’t really write much but essays. Or rants. Or whatever you call it. I’m not much for creating things I don’t know in my head. However as I was washing my hands yesterday over the sink, a scene popped into my head, and I knew I had to write it down. That said, please see Star. A work of fiction, below.


He saw her across the room and had to take a breath.

“She looks the same”. He thought to himself. “Still not a smiler but always had a hint of a smirk there.”

Beer in hand, he tries to carry on, but finds himself too distracted to concentrate much on the conversation. Excusing himself, he uses his empty bottle to steer himself away.

He picks up a beer from the bar and steels himself to go say hi. Turning around, he realizes he doesn’t need to. She’s right behind him, offering a hug hello.

Small talk. It’s been seven years, and they haven’t had an actual conversation, apart from the Facebook happy birthdays and Christmas greetings. Catch up. She’s running a couple of small businesses now, a spa and small pharmacy in nearby locations. He tells her of his post at the ADB.

“Have you met my wife?” he finds himself saying. She says yes, they met when she came in, their friends introducing them. Congratulates him on the baby on the way.

“She’s my rock you know, I don’t think I could have made it this far without her.” He shares without really understanding why. She smiles and says she knows, and that she’s never seen him this content. Confident. It’s a testament to how a woman can change one’s life, her always with the woman hear me roar statements.


“But you’re my star.” He mumbles. She stares at him but doesn’t really say anything. Opening her mouth to speak, he interrupts. “No, don’t. We’ve gone through this before. I’m happy with my life, I just had to be honest.”

He continues, “Years from now, you will be a memory, a happy one, or better, a good friend, but for now, you’re still the star, my one that got away.”

She apologizes and says thanks, and moves the conversation away from the brutally honest one that just happened. They talk, and it’s like the seven years hadn’t passed. They part ways to catch up with other people, promising to keep in touch more often.

He goes back to his wife, kisses her on the cheek, joining her conversation.



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