Secondhand Smoke

Sometimes when I got really bad, I liked to picture times when Frank and I did simple little things, that resulted with my heart getting punched with complete and utter love.
I liked to picture every little detail about him, because sometimes it made me forget he was even gone.

I looked over at him and pushed my thick black hair out of my face. He was nestled into my side, and we were watching a movie. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him, though. His eyes were heavily lidded, and he had a small smile playing on his lips. He looked up at me through his eyelashes and his cheeks turned light pink.
“Yes?” He chuckled out.
“I just really fucking love you. I know that sounds so cliche’, but you’re just so beautiful, even when you’re doing something as simple as watching a shitty movie. Y’know what I mean?” I said, with a small smile.
He lifted himself up, and placed his tattooed hand on my cheek, and he ran his thumb over my cheekbone.
“I do know what you mean. Gee, you’re my world. I think my favorite thing that you do is when you slightly crinkle your nose when you sing along to only your favorite songs. You probably don’t even realize that you do it, but god are you beautiful when you do.” He leaned in and kissed me, smiling as he did so.

I was shocked when I found my eyes dry after thinking about that. Usually the smallest thought about him made me bawl like a fucking baby, but I didn’t cry. Maybe this was good, or maybe it was very bad. I didn’t want to know which, though. I felt like if I knew, either way it would break my heart again.
I looked at my clock and saw that it was 3:00, and I had to be getting to work soon. The comic shop hired me, a few days after me putting in my application.
I walked upstairs and grabbed a pair of black skinny jeans, my converse, and Frank’s oversized green sweater. I slipped it all on, and ran my hands through my hair and grabbed my phone and keys, then headed out the door.
It was still October, so it was pretty chilly out. I didn’t really like thinking about it, but Frank’s birthday was in a week. He would be turning 33. I wanted to go see him, and maybe bring him flowers to show him I haven’t forgotten about him.

I pushed the door open to the small shop, and a bell rung. I walked toward the counter, and the manager, and now my boss, Mr. Porter was waiting for me.
“Ah, Gerard. Good to see you. You ready for your first day?” I shrugged my shoulders.
“As ready as I’ll ever be, I suppose.” He walked past me and patted me on the shoulder. “Good to hear, Way. Lindsey will be in in about 15 minutes.” He said, and I nearly choked.
“Lindsey?” I asked.
“Yes, your co worker. She’ll be here soon, so I’m going to head out. I have other businesses I have to check up on.” He said as he left.
He was a pretty shitty boss. He honestly shouldn’t have left me alone on my first day, even if it was only for 15 minutes.
I was in a world full of idiots.

Notes