Expired

She had really pulled off the "Femme Fatale" look: red lips, red pumps, a flawless black dress, hair up in a loose bun... She was a sight out of a guy's dream and any girl's nightmare. But still, she could hardly hide who she really was. I walked up to her while she fixed one of the kilometric heels that she made seem so comfortable.

"Why hey there, Mister", she said, arching her back seductively as she noticed me.
"Wow. You're certainly... changed", I said, failing to sound unimpressed.
"Yeah. Have to blend inside this crowd, otherwise I'd be eaten alive", she replied, dropping the act and practicing her favorite hobby: bothering me.
"If you just gave them a chance..."
"...I would like 'em even less", she quickly snaps back.

"You know, you really have a problem with being too judgmental", I say, as a very real joke.
"Aha, I do?", she answers, with a daring smile.
"You missed 4 complete seasons of The O.C.!"
"Low blow! We agreed we were never bringing that up!"
"And now you're addicted!"
"Stop it already!", she pleads, with a laugh.

She could never end things on a high note, so she just blurted it out.
"It won't ever be like this again. I mean, you and me".
"There you go again..."
"I'm sorry, I just... It just never seems to be a right time to discuss this"
"Is there anything to discuss, really?", I ask, defiant, suddenly losing my cool.
She keeps quiet, wisely.

Neither of us moves nor says anything, allowing the issue to be brought to mind again. After analyzing the elaborate excuses we'd practiced so many times before, we agree it's not time yet to discuss them. Maybe our time just expired long ago.
"Um... Sorry, I..."
"No, I'm... I'm sorry; I shouldn't have brought it up".

Another one of our infamous silences fills up the space left from the absence of words. It's like a three course menu: Entree, the silence. Main Course, Uncomfortability. Dessert, Rapid flee. Seconds pass and we're already neck up into the main course. One minute and it was time for dessert.

"Hey, um, listen, I've got to..."
"Oh, yeah, me too, the guys are waiting for me..."
"Ok then, it was, um, nice to see you again"
"Yeah, same here".

And we both flee.
And we both feel a cold stab to our insides, a firm grip to our stomachs.
And we both feel lonely.