Just a Sunday Lunch

     Kyle watched as his girlfriend of four years gorged herself on a half-pound cheeseburger and french fries.
     This is the girl I love, he thought.  Then he looked to the table of four younger, thinner women across the restaurant.  He wondered if, at twenty-eight, he was too old to talk to them.
     Not that he would do it, with Rebecca present.
     Not that he would do it, at all.
     The women wore college-labeled clothing, which led Kyle to presume they were, at most, nine years younger than he.  All were local.  One was branded with the mark of Cabrini, another with that of Eastern.  Two bore the marks of Villanova.  They were happy and care-free, chatting and laughing between bites of Flippin’ Jack’s famous burgers.
     That was all that Kyle wanted, to be happy and care-free.  What more could one ask for?

Letting Go is the Hardest Thing

It was impossible to know, then, how much I would come to love her (now).
Sometimes I close my eyes and all I see is her face.
Those captivating eyes, that radiant smile.
And her laugh!
God I miss that laugh.
If that laugh could be the last thing I hear before I die, well…
I might realize something is off.

A Modern Day Christopher Columbus

I

      In an effort to "find himself" after college, Ralph Cole packed his Volkswagen Golf and headed cross-country from New Jersey to California.  He relinquished all ties to the modern world; even suspended his Facebook account. 
     Somewhere around the Grand Canyon, Ralph took a wrong turn and fell off the face of the earth.

Online Fairytales

    Man, twenty-four, seeking Woman, age twenty to twenty-six.
    Within fifty miles of Salistown, Connecticut. 
    Preferably of slender build. 
    Preferably educated. 
    Non-smoker, No drugs, No kids. 
    Must be seeking a committed relationship. 
    Must have a sense of humor (because I’m concerned this website is a joke).

    I never thought I’d turn to the world of online dating.  Something about it just seems so unnatural, so… desperate?  I thought (if I can’t meet a girl in the “real” world) there must be something wrong with me.  Maybe I’m old fashioned.  Maybe I’m naïve.  I watched too many Disney movies as a child.  (Thanks Mom.  Thanks Walt.)  I went to college and learned all there is to know about biology- except how to pick up women. 
    Maybe there’s nothing wrong with me; and it’s the world that’s messed up.
    Even so, adapt or die, right?