Sometimes, the best way to help someone is just to be near them.

– Veronica Roth, Divergent

It's a light summer evening and I'm on my way to the café I haven't visited in last five months...because I'm afraid. Afraid of running into that woman, who fluttered my frozen heart after what seems like eternity if that exists. I know it sounds preposterous, but I rather stay away from her than get my heartbroken again because in all honesty, I'm done having my hopes up every single time. It hurts and is disheartening. And I'd rather keep Clare as a sweet memory.

Then why can't I hold myself back from visiting our first meeting place, that boho café? I shouldn't even try, I shouldn't. But I can no longer exert any control over myself and I end up in front of the place which in my very first visit had given me a beautiful memory to cherish for years to come.

I push the door open and take a step inside when someone collides against me, obstructing my way. I look down at my chest and find a mane of brown leaning on it. "Excuse me, miss?"

The mane of hair moves a little and within seconds, I find myself staring at the same pair of black eyes that I would've loved to gaze for that whole night. But something wasn't right – her eyes are bloodshot red and swollen, as if she has been crying for hours. Is she unwell? I get anxious.
"Are you okay, Clare?" I ask, but she doesn't reply. I ask again. She refuses to utter even a word, tears continue to stream down her face. "What's wrong with you? Why are you crying?" I ask again, a little more desperate than I was before. I do not understand what is happening, but I know something's terribly wrong.
And then I notice. I'm no longer in front of the café, neither is it Clare that I'm holding firmly by her shoulders – it is the conflict zone I once was deployed at, and the person I'm holding on to is my former comrade and junior Kyle Smith. And he is dead. "Kyle, wake up! Nothing will happen to you. We will save you." I cry and I cry. But Kyle refuses to wake up. I look around for help, but it's only dead surrounding me. I do not know what to do, all I know is I want to save Kyle. But how? I cannot think. I don't even have my first aid kit with me, how am I going to help him out? How do I save him? I just cannot think...and then again, my surroundings change, I'm again in front of the café with Clare. And this time, she speaks.
"Save me."

And I wake up, covered in cold sweat. It was a nightmare, a terrible nightmare that I do not wish to see again. Ever. But what I saw is partly true. Kyle is dead, and today is his funeral service. He died on the line of duty ten days back, shot multiple times. His body brought was sent back home a week back and his family scheduled the funeral service for today. I'm not sure if I have it in me to attend it, but if I don't, I'll live with the regret of not seeing him off the last time for the rest of my life.

It will not be easy for me. Not even a bit. You see, he just wasn't a comrade I had worked with while serving, he was a child I had watched grow into the young man that he died as. He was only 20 when he enlisted, a crybaby who wasn't sure if military was his calling. He was always scared of committing mistakes and letting his seniors down. But I wish I had told him that whatever he did, he only made people around him feel proud and that his presence was something which made us all feel hopeful that we'd return home one day, alive. He was a good man, someone who did not deserve to die so young, so soon. And seeing him off, it will be hard for me.
Nonetheless, I will still attend it. For the child I'd grown to love like a younger brother.

But, what surprises me more about the nightmare is...Clare. It's been five months since I met her first and there has been absolutely no contact between the two of us thereafter. I'm frightened. Of her. Of anything remotely close to a relationship and love, because nothing good has ever come out of it for me. I have had three relationships...failed relationships.

I won't say I'm absolutely not at fault, in fact, I accept I have been at fault, too, because of my previous profession which did not allow me to dedicate my time and invest in a relationship. I did commit my share of mistakes by prioritising my military service which meant a lot to me back then, but honestly tell me does it justify my first ex-girlfriend dumping me just like that without any valid reason? She knew what she was getting herself into by choosing to date me, yet she couldn't keep herself invested in our relationship.

"How long am I supposed to wait for you?"
She had asked when I confronted her. It was after ten months of deployment that I finally got to see her, but I was in for a rude shock because she announced her decision to break up with me after four years of dating. I understand a long-distance relationship is difficult to keep yourself devoted to, but she knew exactly what the nature of our relationship would be like. Nonetheless, I was blamed by not only her, but her friends and family. How was I to make them understand that she knew I was a serviceman and that I won't always be around. Honestly, it wouldn't have made much difference to the situation. So, I let her go without putting up a fight. I was twenty-five then and somehow fared well.

But the second break-up was a blow – I was cheated on. We dated for about two years when I was posted in a peace-station and it seemed like a relationship that would eventually culminate into marriage. But few months into deployment and she declared that she could no longer be with me and has already found a new love. It was a little sadder to get through this because this time, my trust was broken. And you'd think I'd have learned my lessons right...I didn't.

I fell in love again, or at least what I felt was love with someone who was like a ray of hope for me...or so I thought. I mean by then I was well into my early thirties and I wanted to settle down soon. But I guess you can already see the pattern here and this time it was her personality that just didn't go along with mine. No, I'm not generalizing women or stating that they go for well-settled-in-career men just to have a secure and stable life. But my third ex did and that was heartbreaking. I was quite invested in this relationship because I was thinking of marriage pretty much after three months into the relationship, but she clearly seemed to have no plans to pursue a career or work even a little. Again, no, I'm not categorizing only women, because I know there are men like this, too. But what I'm saying is, just because one partner has a well-paying job, it doesn't mean the other partner shouldn't pursue a career, unless there is a strong and valid reason to do so. I wanted her to be independent because I had no guarantee of getting a job once I quit military. Err, that's a story for some other day. But coming back to what I'm saying, it was insensitive of her to stop me from quitting military just because it meant I'd be jobless and she'd have to work. Okay, long story short, I broke up with her because I could no longer put up with her materialistic attitude towards life and me. I just...I just wanted to be loved once, for who I am and where I am, not for just what I can provide materially. Is it too much to ask?

So, now that you know my history, do you get why I want Clare to remain as a sweet memory? She was a woman who I had met randomly one day in a café I hadn't planned to visit but ended up going because I wanted to escape from everything that was bothering me. I know it was my own choice to quit military and take up the job of a corporate executive, but somehow, it has never seemed fulfilling to me. I'm not saying I didn't try, I tried and I'm still trying to transition to this life of an executive from a serviceman, but I miss wearing my uniform. I miss the things I did when I was in military, I miss my friends, comrades and colleagues...I miss me. I feel like I'm not myself anymore, like I am someone who doesn't even know me, the one I used to be before all my heartbreaks and the trauma that I faced in military, the latter is why I quit my first job. And the former is why I'm terrified of the idea of extending my contact with Clare.

She is after all a stranger I met, but something about her made me feel like me, the me, I haven't been able to find in last so many years. I cannot reckon what was it about her, that I had stayed there, talking with her for several hours. It was good, it was soothing. I was home. Maybe, because she's a woman, who like me, seems to be stuck in a phase in life that neither of us know how to get passed through. She seems to be carrying some sort of past baggage that refuses to let her go, so does mine. Perhaps, this is why we could connect. But then again, I do not want to pursue her even if she stirred my heart...because I do not know if I have the strength to take a risk again at love. And to worsen the case, she's at least 10 years my junior. I'm not sure if she'll even find an interest in someone who has lived a decade more than her and yet is a failure in more ways than she's still to know.

Anyway, it was a strange dream. And I still cannot figure out why did I even see Clare in it. What was it about her crying? I just cannot fathom her suffering through another tragedy, or is it all in my head? Maybe, I'm overthinking. I should stop. I should get ready for Kyle's funeral service.

***

I loosened my tie as I walk out of the funeral home. Seeing Kyle for the last time was exactly as how I imagined it – despondent. I somewhere feel guilty for not being there for this boy when he was battling for his life, it feels as if I abandoned him too early, too fast. I should've been there for him, when he was still learning. I don't know if I'll ever learn to live with this regret. After all, regret is what you're left with when you fail to be there for someone you care for.

As I walk, drowned in my thoughts, I suddenly notice I'm just a couple blocks away from the café I had been to five months ago. I haven't realised it till now that the funeral home is in the same area as the bohemian café. I don't know why, but I continue to walk towards it. Maybe, it's because of my bizarre dream this morning. Maybe, I have a tiny desire to see the same person I was left mesmerized by the last time I was there.

I cross the blocks and find myself in front of the old fashioned café. It's still bustling with people as if this place has never been more alive. But...I don't know if she'll be here today. I wish she is...I just want to catch a glimpse of her, even if it's for a fleeting second. No, I'm not attracted to her...I just find her presence calming. That's not exactly what you may categorise as attraction or infatuation. It's like finding solace in someone who somewhere understands my battle scars as she wears them on her sleeves, too. It cannot be termed as love or infatuation, it is like home and you can find it in a person, you may or may not be in love with.

I stay fixated at the café entrance, contemplating whether or not I should go inside. What if she's there? What would I do if she catches my sight? Will I act nonchalantly? Or will I act surprised on finding her here? Or should I just not go inside and leave? But what if I never get to see her again? Argh! It's so frustrating! Hold on, wasn't I mourning a while back? What the hell is wrong with me? I should be mourning over my junior's death instead of contemplate whether or not I should enter a café where the woman I'm keen on meeting may or may not be present.

While I continue to ponder on my decision, the door of the café is pushed open and a young woman walks out, dazed and lifeless. I still do not notice much of her until I see her carrying the same book that had helped me initiate a conversation with Clare that day. I'll be honest, it wasn't like I had intended to share her table, I was just about to walk out with my coffee when I saw a young distressed woman, who seemed like she needed someone to talk to. I know, I know, she never really said that and it was totally in my prerogative to approach her...but if I hadn't, I would've regretted it for quite some time because something about her sadness seemed to reflect what I have been feeling all these years and I know just how it sucks to have no one to turn to when all you want is someone to pour your heart out to. Of course, once the conversation began, it was my selfishness that made me stay. And I'm happy I did. But what happened to her now?

"Excuse me, miss?" I call out, the woman at least 10 steps ahead of me. It's a little noisy out here, I'm not sure if she heard me or if she even thinks I'm addressing her. "Hey, Clare Lauren." I call her name which does the trick for me...and leaves me astounded.

Her eyes bloodshot and swollen, her face paler than it was five months ago, and her liveliness dead – this is not the woman I had imagined to meet today. It was the woman I had seen in my nightmare. Was it a sign of some sort? Or a forewarning? I do not know.

"Robin," she tries to smile faintly but it refuses to reach her eyes as it did in my memory of her. "You here? I didn't expect to run into you today."

"Are you okay? You look ill."

"I'm...fine. I'll be fine...soon."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," she nods her head slightly, as if it takes her entire strength to even do a small gesture like this. What has happened to her? I cannot fathom. "It's getting late now, I should go."

"Clare," I softly call her name, grasping her hand as she turns to leave. I don't know how but a fear has crept into my heart – if I don't break my wall to reach to her, I might regret it for the rest of my life. "Do you want...do you want to talk? I'll listen to you. I promise."

She looks at me, her eyes filled with despair. Her woebegone appearance is terrifying me, it is worse than my bad dream. Yet, something about her demeanour screams of helplessness, as if what she said in my dream was true – she needs help.

"Save me."