Persian Princess

It's 4 O'clock in the morning and I just can't find sleep anywhere. I keep looking for it but it is steadfast in its refusal to allow me to find and capture it so here I am writing.

I read a message from a girl I know, I received it 8 months ago and found myself thinking of her earlier. I call her my Persian Princess but never to her face nor ever to anyone else's. We met 10 years ago and have met only once since and even that was about 8 years ago now and I haven't seen her since.
She came to visit London and I found myself showing her around and falling for her a little more with every moment I spent with her. I showed her the sites and took her to the Houses of Parliament and even managed to get her onto the floor of the House of Commons.
But I felt a sadness in her. I felt the same sadness in her that I feel in myself.
One night we were out in a bar and I was nervous to be with her so I drank, but I drank too much. Jack Daniels and coke, a double shot in each glass and I can't remember how many glasses I drank. I found myself alone with her in this dark bar full of people. It was my friend's birthday and it was my other friend's engagement party and it was December.
I felt confident in this dark bar, surrounded by people I knew. I had her in my arms and I leaned in to kiss her and she kissed me back. Then I stopped and pulled back and she looked up at me through these big brown eyes and asked me
"What was that?"
And I was embarrassed and unsure of myself now despite the alcohol running through my system but when I leaned in to kiss her again she kissed me back. And then we were sitting down on a couch in this dark bar in Camden and I was kissing her with my eyes closed thinking to myself that finally I have in my arms a woman I truly care about. And then my hand was up her shirt, I found her small breasts in this dark place and I was touching one of them in this dark place while the alcohol ran through my system and then the night was over.
The lights were on and the dark bar was exposed in all its glory and she was leaving me and I would never see her again.
I followed her out to her cab but she wouldn't look at me. I really wanted her to look at me and finally she did but there was something missing from her beautiful brown eyes when she did, something that had been there before that was now gone. And I blamed myself and knew that I would never see her again.
I think about her often, my Persian Princess.

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