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         “3-Week Notice”
The thought,
Never even,
Crossed his mind,
Which was quite odd,
For a guy,
That prided himself,
On being prepared,
For most any,
But when it came to,
He found that,
No amount of planning,
Seemed to work,
Or even help,
To prepare him,
For all the,
Unorthodox moves,
She made,
On a daily basis.
He tried to adjust,
To her wide shifts,
In personality,
Going out of her way,
To show him,
The type of attention,
That made him feel,
So very special,
With just a,
Few words,
And a smile,
3-hours later,
She won’t even make,
Eye contact,
With him,
When he tries to,
Talk to her,
About something,
Work related.
Most guys,
Put so much weight,
These day to day nuances,
Of a woman,
They work with,
But then,
Most guys,
That she works with,
In love,
With her.
Over the last year,
He has learned,
How to stay balanced,
In this ever changing,
Psychological circus,
She had him,
Living in.
Though to be fair,
She really didn’t have,
Any idea,
That her actions,
Or words,
Had this kind,
Or any kind of,
Effect on his day,
Or even more so,
His life.
Though that was,
Something he tried,
To explain to her,
More than a few times,
In his long rambling,
None of which,
She seemed to grasp,
Especially with,
All of them,
Missing more than a few,
Key words,
One of them being,
In Love.
But today,
Was very different,
When she walked up,
And told him,
She was quitting,
Getting a better job,
He didn’t really,
Hear her,
Which was very,
For him,
When she spoke,
Her first,
Or two,
They never really,
Made it,
All the way,
To his brain,
All his concentration,
Was put into,
Absorbing her look.
He never,
Passed up,
An opportunity,
To gaze a pond,
Her face.
And even after,
More than a,
Of looking into,
Her eyes,
As she spoke,
To him,
He still felt like,
Each time he saw her,
That it was for,
The very first time.
And because of that,
The words,
“I’m Quitting”,
Just sailed,
Right past him,
Without registering,
From him,
Any more,
Than a one word,
He used that word,
A lot,
When responding to,
The first couple of,
She spoke,
It played well,
With most any,
She would make,
Very noncommittal,
Giving him,
More time,
To notice,
The little things,
He enjoyed about her.
Like the way,
Right now,
The harsh overhead,
Was no match,
For the,
Of her eyes.
It just intensified,
Their beauty,
Giving there,
Crisp colors,
An even deeper,
So she,
Just kind of,
Stood there,
Looking at him,
He was taking,
The news,
So nonchalantly.
It was not,
In till,
Her 3rd sentence,
When she said,
She only had,
3-weeks left,
Did his mind,
Snap on,
As his little world,
He had built,
Around her,
He noticed,
Was starting to,
How could this be?
How could this,
Possible be?
“What do you mean?”
“You’re quitting?”
He gasps.
She starts to talk,
About her new job,
New pay rate,
Working with,
New people,
And a lot of,
New challenges.
But he,
Isn’t really listening,
In his head,
He’s counting,
The number of days,
He has left,
With her.
Then he,
Catches himself,
When he sees,
A look of worry,
And unsureness,
Come over her,
How selfish of him,
Not to think,
Of all the,
She must be feeling.
He reminds her,
Of her,
Charismatic personality,
Which is,
Attached to,
A smile,
That comes with,
A look,
That just makes,
Want to be part,
Of whatever,
It is,
She’s doing.
She gives him,
A bit of a smile,
And a reply of,
That sounded,
So genuine,
And heart felt,
Along with a look,
In her eyes,
That made him feel,
So very close,
To her,
In a way,
He hadn’t felt,
It kind of,
Scared him,
He wasn’t sure,
What to do,
Should he hug,
Just continue to look,
At her,
With empathy?
Say something funny,
She had told him,
On countless occasions,
He put,
Way too much,
Into things,
Most people,
Just do.
But by the time,
He figured out,
That this situation,
Might really be,
Calling out,
For a hug,
She had already turned,
And started to,
Walk away.
He thought about,
Trying to catch up,
To her,
And hugging her,
But he was,
Smart enough to know,
That a catch-up hug,
With someone,
You never even dated,
Really only works,
In the movies,
Or if the guy,
Is really hot looking,
And neither one,
Of those instances,
Applied right now.
His mind,
Starts to spin,
And ideas,
Begin to drop,
As how best,
To spend the time,
He had left,
With her.
He smiles,
And says,
Out loud,
“With her”,
As if they were,
A couple,
Or close friends,
More accurate,
Would be,
Around her,
And even then,
He just means,
They’re both in the,
Same building,
The same,
Very big building.
He’s driving home,
With his music,
Turned off,
Thinking about,
All that’s transpired,
Over the course,
Of this,
Not so average day.
He wishes,
He could call her,
Talk to her,
Ask her about,
Her plans,
Or just to hear,
Her voice.
But he’s,
Never even asked,
For her phone number,
Hiding behind,
A fake,
Gentlemen’s code of,
“It just wouldn’t be proper”,
“To ask her for it”
But really,
He’s just to,
To ask her,
Afraid of,
Where he’d be,
If she should,
Say no.
He decides,
Not to drive,
Straight home,
And heads for,
A back road,
That takes him,
Above a stretch,
Of beach,
Filled with jagged rocks,
Where large waves,
Come crashing in,
Breaking up,
Against them.
He gets out,
Of his car,
And sits on,
A rocky out cropping,
Watching the distant,
As they grow into,
Unable to truly,
The rhythmic beauty,
Of the incoming sets,
As her face,
And body,
All his conscious,
Quite able,
To find a way,
Past her.
He quit trying,
To fight it,
A battle,
He’s not so sure,
He wanted to win,
And lets his,
Thoughts of her,
Totally envelop,
His body,
And mind.
Random bits,
Start to take hold,
As he relives,
Little moments,
That made lasting,
For reasons,
He’s unsure of.
He sees her,
Walking away,
Flashing him,
A smile,
Over her shoulder,
That made him,
Wish he could,
Stop time,
Just so he could,
Enjoy it,
For just a,
Little bit,
Standing two-feet,
In front of him,
Ranting and raving,
About the gross,
Of a fellow coworker,
With a look,
Of murder,
In her eye,
But he’s,
Completely captivated,
By all her,
Raw energy,
That just seems to,
That sexy look,
She already has,
Going on,
When she’s angry.
He wasn’t sure,
How long he,
Had sat there,
The incoming waves,
Now hidden by,
The night sky,
Just the constant,
Crashing sound,
When they meet,
The rocks,
Every 9-seconds,
Or so,
To remind you,
That they were,
Still there.
He has to be,
Back at work,
Early tomorrow,
As does she,
Still unsure,
Of what to do,
Or say,
To her,
When he sees her,
He climbs into,
His car,
And starts to head,
For home.
Maybe the sun,
Will bring him,
The answers,
That the moon,
Couldn’t provide.
He thinks,
As a smile,
Finds its way,
On to his face,
For the first time,
I’ve still got,
  Tom Allen…05-01-2017…