The sullen voice of his unrelenting inner-monologue told him to turn around, to go back, but it was late, he was tired, and he had things to do in the morning. That night he lied in his queen-sized bed that was much too big for just him, and tried to sleep. Unsuccessful, he pondered the missed opportunity that flaunted itself within the forefront of his mind.
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Jack was at home, reading, when his phone rang. Turning to answer it he couldn't help but feel tempted to just leave it alone and keep reading what was undoubtedly a sad, sad novel. On the other end of the line was Jack's buddy Roger, he was having an impromptu house-party. If there was one thing Jack hated more than house-parties, it was spontaneity.
Leaving the comfort of his favourite reading chair, Jack dressed himself, and before heading out the door, he took one last look at himself in the mirror. Content that he looked good enough, he left his home behind. Stopping just once to purchase the obligatory case of beer, he arrived at Roger's house fairly quickly.
Roger greeted Jack in either a very enthusiastic way, or a very sarcastic way, Jack couldn't be sure. Either way, Jack laughed and shook Roger's hand before scanning the room. Out of the eleven people currently standing in Roger's living room, Jack recognized nine, but only two would he call friends. Stepping into the gathering of overly-friendly people, Jack felt nothing but regret.
Surprisingly, Jack was quite adept at small-talk. He had mastered the art of feigning interest in the mundane life of the average person. Jack knew precisely when to smile, chuckle, nod, or delve into his repertoire of decontextualized responses. A "no kidding," or a "right on," was almost always enough to satisfy the requirements of Jack's side of a typical conversation.
The night continued on, as night's tend to do. People left, people arrived. Jack had become numb to the whole scenario. Stuck between wanting to leave and not wanting to be alone, Jack remained nearly silent in the corner. That is, until she arrived.
She was not someone Jack had seen before. Her short blonde hair framed her face perfectly. From his corner, Jack admired this woman, trying to recall the last time he had felt this way. She began to mingle throughout the party, Jack quickly broke off whatever meaningless conversation someone was having with him and made his way towards Roger.
Roger told Jack that Lilly was his cousin. That she had just moved to town. That she was single. Jack had heard enough. He left Roger and walked towards Lilly with the confidence and bravado of a much stronger man.
Lilly and Jack instantly hit it off. They laughed. They shared stories. By the end of the night Jack felt he knew Lilly better than he had known anyone, and vice-versa. Before leaving Jack asked for Lilly's number, which she gladly offered. Jack went home feeling self-satisfied for the first time in his life.
After that night Jack and Lilly became a couple. They fell in love. A year later they were married. They had kids. Two girls, Diane and Stacy. They grew old together, never for one moment doubting each others love. And it all began at that one impromptu party.
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Jack remained sleepless in his oversized single-bed as he dreamt of what could have been. By morning he felt too tired to get up. He thought about staying in bed all day. Just wasting another day with loneliness and self-loathing. But something had changed within him. Whether it was the lack of sleep or the prospect of seeing Lilly again, Jack felt like a new man. He got up, he ran his errands just like he had planned, and, before he returned to his home, he stopped by Roger's place to get Lilly's number.
That afternoon Jack sat in his favourite reading chair without a book, just his phone, debating whether or not to use it.
