Routine
One
Routine.
That’s what is has become. Routine.
Every night, Amanda would sit here at the bar, sulking. Not caring how much she was drinking, or the consequences that could possibly follow.
The bottle was her best friend.
Routine.
Every night, Amanda would watch the dark haired figure come into the bar, sit 6 seats down from her, and order beers till he couldn't barely stand. They always made eye contact, but never once have they ever said a word to each other.
He would raise his beer bottle to her and then drink it, as if he were toasting.
Routine.
Amanda would pray to have to courage to talk to the man that she grown so accustom to seeing every night. She would play it out in her head, imagine what she wanted to say, and how she wanted it to go.
Routine.
Always, right before she finally would want to do it, another would rip her chance away, he would take her hand and leave with the girl, always looking at Amanda right before walking out, with the sweetest sadness in his eyes.
As if he wanted her to be the one he was leading out the door.
Tonight was going to be different, she was here, in her usual spot waiting for him to get here, and right on time he walked in and took his seat, ordering the Miller Light he loved so much.
But he had different plans. He was beating her to the punch.
"Miss, this is from the gentlemen over there" The bartender handed Amanda a folded napkin, and when she looked over at the man, he gave her a smile.
Amanda opened the folded napkin and read the words that were scribbled on it.
Its quiet the routine isn't it?
Gerard Way
Her head shot up at the man, he knew that she would fully understand what he meant by the 6 short words he wrote.
She quickly replied.
He got up and walked towards her, grabbed her hand and the way walked out the door together.
As if it were routine
That’s what is has become. Routine.
Every night, Amanda would sit here at the bar, sulking. Not caring how much she was drinking, or the consequences that could possibly follow.
The bottle was her best friend.
Routine.
Every night, Amanda would watch the dark haired figure come into the bar, sit 6 seats down from her, and order beers till he couldn't barely stand. They always made eye contact, but never once have they ever said a word to each other.
He would raise his beer bottle to her and then drink it, as if he were toasting.
Routine.
Amanda would pray to have to courage to talk to the man that she grown so accustom to seeing every night. She would play it out in her head, imagine what she wanted to say, and how she wanted it to go.
Routine.
Always, right before she finally would want to do it, another would rip her chance away, he would take her hand and leave with the girl, always looking at Amanda right before walking out, with the sweetest sadness in his eyes.
As if he wanted her to be the one he was leading out the door.
Tonight was going to be different, she was here, in her usual spot waiting for him to get here, and right on time he walked in and took his seat, ordering the Miller Light he loved so much.
But he had different plans. He was beating her to the punch.
"Miss, this is from the gentlemen over there" The bartender handed Amanda a folded napkin, and when she looked over at the man, he gave her a smile.
Amanda opened the folded napkin and read the words that were scribbled on it.
Its quiet the routine isn't it?
Gerard Way
Her head shot up at the man, he knew that she would fully understand what he meant by the 6 short words he wrote.
She quickly replied.
He got up and walked towards her, grabbed her hand and the way walked out the door together.
As if it were routine