Alone - I wonder where you are tonight (George and Ada’s Story 2)

Here’s me again, sitting at the same presence. His lovely way of conducting himself made him somehow more desirable in many ways. 

Sometimes I had to pinch myself to comeback to reality. Silly me.

My last encounter with George left me wondering. His last goodbye for that night had a bad taste of uncertainty. His clear deep blue eyes somehow after all this years, told something in him still carried some sadness. His calmed, secured looks could’ve give any woman an invading sense of trust, a sense of experience. His light brown blonde hair, slightly wavy, seemed to be moving as the breeze touched the slightly mid fade hair type style. The highlights on his hair made his deep blue eyes stand out and his goatee style beard really complimented his mid age. Very attractive for a 45 year old man. 

His British accent unlike any others, made any type of conversation enjoyable. No way this man would’ve find any subject to listen to instead of looking for an excuse to change his conversation. 

I don’t know why, but for me where my mother tongue is not English; got caught into the spell of loving the British English accent. There’s something mysterious in it. Mystical. Relaxing to me. I might be one of those weirdo people; but I enjoy it. I remember when taking public transit to work, I used to sit at the back of the driver, just to hear his British accent. I didn’t care about what he spoke. Just his accent. Perfect pronunciation. The flow his conversations took it entertained me. I had a story teller on board. I looked forward to see him again just to listen to him. Shortly after he noticed me. I felt to stupid. Again. For months we just said hi to each other. Thank you and bye. Few years after, I didn’t see him again. Meh.

My heart sank.

I never knew his name.

I never knew his phone number.

Nothing.

George had always had a story from every place he went to perform with the band. I can’t deny it. For me, it was exciting just to know he was coming back. Coming back home.

I wanted to get surrounded by his enthusiasm, energy and feel he puts on his stories when narrated by him. It made you feel you were with him at the moment when the actions happened. 

George is such a great soul; he always found in everything he touched, everything he saw, everything he listened to. Great motivational human being. 

Every time he told his stories and experiences; everything, every one stopped and listened.

It was like magic.

The world stopped just to listen to him.

Everything that he narrated from his incredible trips and concerts, made me feel more interested in him. Every time he spoke about the new people he met and new places he went; I wished I could share those moments with him as well. Those thoughts came like flashbacks when I felt lonely. 

His absence was felt all over my body and thoughts. My mind took over and mandated my fingers to type a quick texting. Is he free? Is he performing at a gig somewhere in the world? 

I took a deep breath in and hit the send key on my iPhone.

It was late. No plans for tomorrow, so the dishes, glass of wine and the untouched grapes stood lonely on my night table. I slowly dosed off, leaving the tv on for the rest of the night. 

That night I dreamt of him and his trips and gigs. 

I longed once again - I wanted to be there; every trip and gig he played. Listening to his songs and enjoying them and singing. 

I totally forgot I had left my CD player on continuing loop. I woke up when ‘Back for Good’ was playing. Sighted again. This must be a sign I thought.

Way too many thoughts.

On the other side of the world, George was also thinking, reminiscent of the times they were together. Bandaid, the pub, and the last conversation in person left a need on him for seeing Ada again, her dark brown eyes, her coffee sultry lips, her asymmetric short bob and silver highlights. Her Chinese-Latino complexion could’ve tricked anyone. Maybe…..

All of the sudden, two hearts.

Two souls

Two minds

Two needs

Two bodies 

One purpose 

The time when two becomes one.

George’s eyes looked sad again.

He was having dinner with a friend.

He noticed he looked at him when his friend talked, but his mind was somewhere else. His looking transposed his friend sitting in front of him at the dining table towards the back window where the black wisteria was softly being blown away by the breeze coming down from the hills before entering the town.

George reached his right pocket. He was wearing a light blue jacket. He reached his left pocket and took his iPhone out. He felt an intense need to text Ada, ask her how she was doing. 

A couple we knew from years ago just recognized us an joined us at the table. I joined the conversation but most of the times my mind wondered off every now and then. 

Images of both of them sitting down a table. close to the fireplace, dimmed lights hit his thoughts. Ada looked as beautiful as always, her blissful face, her dark brown eyes and her perfume made George wanting her more.

Finally, after searching on his contact list on his iPhone, found the contact his mind was wondering; the whereabouts of the woman he met some months ago.

Unfortunately Ada wasn’t available.

Time zones didn’t work this time.

Ada was in Australia organizing the next year’s concert.

George; somewhere in the UK

Just finished one of the many around the world concerts advertised for the year.

When back at his hotel, George went up to his room, laid down in bed.

Thoughts invaded his mind, starting an urgent need to contact Ada.

Is Ada ok?

Whereabouts is her now?

Does she still remember me?

So with high expectations he decided to text her.

Hopefully Ada will answer back…