Not a tear to shed

• inspired by the song "Paint me a Birmingham" by Tracy Lawrence 

He sat and watched the waves break against the shore.  He was not a heavy drinker; however, he took this opportunity to reflect on his life that he felt had hit a standstill since his break-up.  Lighting up a cigarette, he contemplated a relationship gone amiss.   The music played in the background highlighting the somber mood in which he was engulfed.

It began five months ago and ended abruptly after three short weeks.  Her beauty was undeniable.   But, that was not that which had drawn him to her.  It was the traits of a confident and demure woman that had begun the attraction.  When he was with her he felt at ease and as if nothing could possibly waver the bliss and tranquility he felt.

A large wave crashed against the shore.  He took another sip of his beer and lit another cigarette.  It was near dusk and the sun was beginning to set into the ocean.  The cool summer breeze refreshed his senses. 

Alone, he sat at a mostly empty bar staring at the direction of the ocean and contemplating recent events.  Not one to overly indulge in alcohol, he slowly finished his first beer.  He sat alone and watched the beach-goers pass by. 

The waitress returned to his table.  A young man sitting in solitude at this bar was rare, but she did not think much of it.  He gazed out into the ocean with a guise of indifference.  There were a few other patrons at the bar, but he chose to sit alone.  The waitress briefly glanced at him as she approached his table.  Her only thought was to wonder what caused a man to sit alone in such seclusion.  Usually the regulars at the bar would come with their friends and enjoy light-hearted camaraderie.

She asked him if he would like her to bring him another beer.  Without a sound, he motioned towards his glass asking for another.  Walking away she glanced at him, not considering a man alone in a location usually reserved for merriment.

Remembering their first meeting, he was sitting at a coffee shop reading a book and enjoying a warm espresso.  It was a small place across town reserved for those interested in light conversation and a mellow atmosphere.  As he read his book, he noticed her looking in his direction.  She smiled at him in a most modest manner.  It was not usually a venue for meeting people; however he walked up to her and asked if he could join her.

He felt an immediate connection with her, conversing with ease and feeling complete assurance. 

They had dated for only a few weeks, but during those three weeks he felt carefree with confidence that what he felt for her was true.

The waitress returned to his table with his beer.  He thanked her as he set another dollar beer on the table. 

The sun had nearly sunk entirely into the ocean.  The cool summer breeze chaffed against his skin.  As he took a few more sips out of his beer he lit another cigarette. 

Without recourse for solace, he began to regress in remembrance of what for a short time had been perfection.  Upon contemplation all he could feel was regret.

He finished his beer and placed another dollar on the table.  He looked at the stars in the sky and walked home on the brisk summer night.  Tomorrow he would work, while attempting to bury the painful memories of what he knew meant to him more than it should.