Dear Journal,

Welcome to the most useless holiday of the year.

Thankfully I have work to keep me occupied.

Tonight, May and I stayed late at the office, putting the finishing touches on our designs. They're coming out fabulous, and I can say that I'm immensely proud of what we've accomplished in such a short period.

The hours flew by as we debated over fabrics and final details, the project coming together in a way I hadn't thought possible just a few weeks ago. The creative energy between us was electric, making the long hours feel like moments of inspiration rather than mere work.

Eventually, May suggested we take a break.

A local bar. How...interesting.

Well, my therapist has suggested I get out of my comfort zone. Carpe diem...or whatever.

So we headed to a nearby spot. The bar was cosy, with a warm atmosphere that was a stark contrast to the sterile environment of the office. I didn't feel as tense. I ordered my regular, a whiskey on the rocks for myself and a glass of wine for May. As we settled into our seats, the stress of the day began to fade. It felt as if the tension melted right off my bones.

We started talking about our time in design school, sharing stories about our experiences and the colourful characters we'd met along the way. May's laughter and animated storytelling were a welcome distraction from the intensity of our work.

So...this is where things get complicated.

As the evening progressed, I couldn't help but reflect on the blind date I had a month ago. The contrast between that experience and the one I was having now with May was striking. The date had felt forced and uninspiring, whereas tonight was effortless and filled with genuine connection.

May's presence captivated me. Maybe it was the whiskey or something else but in that moment, all I could see was her. Her brown hair fell gracefully around her shoulders, and her green eyes sparkled with a mischievous light. I found myself drawn to the softness of her lips and the way her cheeks turned a rosy pink from the alcohol. I noticed every little detail, from her gentle gestures to the way she laughed.

I knew she was attractive but good god, she was beautiful.

She had confessed earlier that she was a lightweight when it came to drinking, and it was clear she was feeling the effects of the wine more than I was. (I didn't tell her that I was 0ne too.)

Her drunken giggles were infectious, and I couldn't get enough of them. Something was endearing about her uninhibited joy, a stark contrast to the carefully curated façade she often presented.

As the night wore on, we decided to leave.

The thought of kissing her had crossed my mind more than once, but I hesitated. There was an internal struggle between desire and restraint. May seemed to sense the momentary hesitation, and I saw a flicker of disappointment in her eyes before she masked it with a smile.

Damn whiskey.

She said her goodbyes and left, and I was left alone, filled with regret. The silence of the empty bar was a harsh reminder of my missed opportunity.

I realized then that I should have kissed her, that the tension between us was a form of torture I had unnecessarily imposed upon myself.

As I drove home, I replayed the night in my mind, unable to shake the feeling that I had let something precious slip through my fingers. I should have embraced the moment and acted on my feelings instead of second-guessing. Now, I was left with the longing of what might have been.

Tomorrow, I'll have to face the consequences of my indecision and hope that I can find a way to make things right. For now, all I can do is reflect on the night and the painful realization that sometimes the hardest part is not taking a chance when it's right in front of you.

Much to do,

- Alexander