Monster In A Box

She walked into a favorite Mexican restaurant in Morro Bay, California, feeling emotionally drawn tight and frazzled.

The kids were with her in their tender teens, and their father had agreed to eat with them all for the first time in a while.

Her instinct kept pinging for a sense of any connection between herself and her ex, but there was only static, and her heart ached with every attempt as she would smile.

It was a fragile situation for her kids, and she was so exhausted from loss – but worked to keep up the stalwart veneer of capability forced upon her as the now primary single parent.

While her once nuclear family ordered their food, she sat down in a booth to look out of the windows facing the direction of the ocean which was hidden behind buildings.

Then she saw the man hunched over his plate of food, facing and trying to not look at her. She assessed him visibly before closing her eyes in strained pain over recent hardships.

He was a well-built, large-statured man of Mexican-American descent and had socks around his large sandled feet with shorts and shirt to compliment. She could tell that he wasn’t a local resident, and he exuded an amazing energy with intelligent animalism.

He looked like her Monster from what little she’d seen of an outdated photograph, but even better than she’d imagined. His power and strength were evident. The careful grace of his every move while he ate was glorious combined with his self composure.

She opened then closed her eyes again, emotions swirling at the desire to break free – to fly to her Monster wherever he was. She knew the situation with her ex had become toxic to her, but she was doing this dinner to help ensure his rebonding with their children.

When she opened her eyes again to look at the man, he had slipped away quietly – no trace left of him. It was exactly as her Monster would have done.

Had it been him?! She should have been brave and asked him if they had met before – but her fried brain had not realized the possibility until he vanished.

When the dinner was over, she rushed to her computer to contact him. “Monster, was it you? Did you come to see me?” She typed erratically, distressed at having possibly missed this unexpected opportunity to meet him in reality.

But, no reply was given. He had never spoken to her again once he had withdrawn to envelop his public status in silence.

Twelve years later, she still thinks of him. After declaring her leaving a private blog two years ago that he had helped her create, she returned again yesterday to check on him and found his site no longer loaded.

She hates not knowing what has happened to him. Is he ok? Has he at last found happiness? Or has he given up completely on everything?

She had hoped her leaving would encourage him to reemerge into the light like she was doing. It keeps distressing her now that all traces of him are missing.