The Number On The Napkin

42 | Forget-me-not

- Alec -

"The caller you are trying to reach has a voicemail box that is full and cannot accept messages at the time. Goodbye!"

"What? You've got to be kidding me. I'm trying again anyways."

"The caller you are trying to reach has a voicemail box that is full and cannot accept messages at the time. Goodbye!"

Well, I knew this was bound to happen at some point. I mean I've been leaving her countless messages for pretty much a month now and I guess she hasn't even been listening to them. I just thought maybe I'd have more time to get through to her. I hate to say it...but I was right about the stubborn thing! I mean come on! Give a guy a chance! Right? I don't know...I guess she wouldn't be Daisy without a little stubbornness. Or a lot.

So this is what I get huh? The universe coming back and biting me in the ass for all that I've done. But why did the universe have to use Daisy to do that? The one person that actually turned my life around. She did, she changed me. Which I still find funny that when I told Tristan, he wrote it off as me just being drunk. And I get it because I say some weird stuff when I get drunk, but that was real. Actually, it was probably one of the most real things I've ever said. Which is kinda ironic considering that state I was in.

I quickly rub my eyes, clearing away the rest of the morning fog that is still lingering. My fingers drum idly on the steering wheel as I stare at my blank phone screen. Why? I don't know. I sometimes find myself just staring at my phone, or at the old messages with Daisy, for seemingly no particular reason. Maybe it's to make the intense pressure in my head worse, or the sick, slimy feeling of guilt thicken. Either way, it's pointless. 

Shaking my head I slide my phone into my pocket and slowly climb out of my car. I have a few hours to kill before I have to go pick up Layla from her sleep over so I might as well stumble around town for a little. I inhale the sweet smell of flowers wafting up from the small flower box, down on the sidewalk. It really is a beautiful day. And Daisy was right, I don't need to see every color in order to tell how beautiful the world is. I mean I didn't even need to see her face to know that she's beautiful. Smiling at the passerby I begin walking down the sidewalk, trying to clear my head of everything, and more specifically, everyone.

People slowly stroll by me as everyone absorbs the soft sun rays on their faces. Most walk with other people by their sides. Either holding hands or lightly laughing at what the other has just said. All of their faces are bright with life, their joie de vivre radiating off of them. I wonder how I appear to them. Do they notice that I'm alone? Or how every once in a while, too often, I check my phone for the time or a possible missed call? Or how I get lost, deep in thought just to suddenly get yanked out by my subconscious? It's almost as if I have an alarm now that warns me when I'm straying from present thoughts. Almost like I can hear her voice reminding me of step three: stay in the moment.

And I will do just that. I look to my left at the different shop windows. Most of them appear to be clothing, soap, and shoe stores, none of which peak my interest. Though, maybe Layla would, I'll have to remember them. I look over to my right as an old pick up truck rumbles by me, exhaust spitting out of the back. Before I can turn back around I hear a sharp, "watch out!" I whip back around in time to see a man yanking on a leash attached to—

"Woah, woah, woah! What is that a horse?" I yell just as the large creature jumps up to greet me, almost knocking me back onto the sidewalk.

"Oh no, this is just Thor, my great dane!" The man grins, trying to unsuccessfully tug the 'dog' down from my face.

A thick layer of slobber coats my cheek as Thor lays a big wet one on me. I try to shove away his big face all while trying to keep from toppling over, so I end up doing pretty much nothing. What the hell? Does he weigh 50 tons or something?! The man finally tugs Thor back down, and as soon as he does I take the edge of my shirt and wipe away the rest of the muck on my cheek.

"That is not a dog! That is most certainly a horse!" I yell, staggering backwards.

"Whatever you say," the man chuckles. "Come on Thor."

Shaking my head, I watch as the man walks away with his horse at his side. As I start to turn back around to continue walking down the sidewalk, something catches my eye. On the window, of what looks like a coffee shop, are big flowers drawn out in white paint. The thing is...they look so familiar to me. I'm not sure why though. I've never been to this coffee shop, I know that for sure. So what else would it be?

I walk up to the window until I'm right in front of it, my face only a few inches from the glass. Why do these flowers look so familiar? I just can't seem to put my finger on it. I step back again, now standing in the middle of the sidewalk, hoping that a different perspective will help. It doesn't do anything but confuse me even further. I'm still just getting the very, very faint feeling of a hidden memory. A memory somehow buried underneath, almost forgotten, but not quite. A memory that I set aside, on accident? On purpose? But why would I—

Then it clicks. 

Before I can even fully process what is happening I go sprinting into the coffee shop.