Once upon a time, i ran into an ex-lover of mine who i _____________and after a short conversation, we ___________and _____________! That was it until yesterday when i ________________and I _______________. Isn't that _____________________?
Once upon a time, I ran into an ex-lover of mine who I hadn’t seen since my time in the Navy. This time we were on the Washington State Ferry between Seattle and Bainbridge Island. As always, she was wearing leggings and running shoes. Her socks, peeping above the tops of the shoes at her dainty ankles were white enough to put newly bleached sheets to shame. She was always like that. So effortlessly casual yet exuding elegance. And sex appeal. It was the shoes and the leggings. I hadn’t seen her in…what was it…fifteen years. She hadn’t aged. The phone was updated. The onyx earrings were new. The leggings were Lulu now, not Nike. But the hair was still in a ponytail. The nails were still painted a glossy teal. And the scent of Giorgio Red wafted across the deck, impervious to the wind and the salt and the time that had settled between us.
I couldn’t not see her, could I? Or, rather, I couldn’t not say something, right? She was leaning against the forward railing. Immobile. The gentle vibrations from the engines nudging her hands that rested on the varnished rails. We sailed toward the sun; it painted her face gold and washed out the letters spelling out “Princeton” on the ever-present hoodie. I still debated whether to approach. Fifteen years is a lifetime. Two cars. Three new jobs. Lovers. That stung. There had to have been lovers. There was at least one. But those hands, those marvelous, talented hands with the glossy teal fingernails, were void of a wedding band. Or a diamond. Any jewelry. Fifteen years is a lifetime, and she hadn’t really changed.
She ran away once. Now, on a ferry, in Puget Sound – could she run away here?
It didn’t matter, did it? I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t approach.
The walk to the rail was fifteen paces for my legs and fifteen minutes in my mind.
My hands rested upon the rail. The engines offered me their strength through the vibrations churning up through the steel and wood. Her eyes were still closed. It was time.
“Hello Eva,” I said. Lowering my voice just a little. Because, why not? The muscles in her fingers moved slightly betraying her awareness of my voice. Those fingers. A siren song to a time, a place, a touch long ago. Her eyes opened, staring towards the sun, the horizon, the distant shore, anywhere – a refuge – but the present and the inevitability of the reality of my flesh and blood standing next to her.
“Hello Michael,” she replied. Her voice was mellow. ‘Liquid velvet,’ I had described it once. “Apt but trite” my best friend had told me at the time. “I don’t understand. How… Why are you here?”
My eyes met the horizon, not really wanting to be ensnared by hers. “I’m traveling for work. My friend lives on the other side of the Sound.” I didn’t need to say more. She knew Chris. They liked each other. She also knew that he knew, when I didn’t, that my heart was going to be damaged by Eva.
The silence was long.
She spoke first.
“I’ve missed you.”
Fifteen years condensed, melted, and disposed of in three words. Walls dissolved, rivers forded, and bridges of time and hurt and anger crossed. Not forgotten, not unseen, just on the other shore.
I didn’t believe, but I didn’t doubt.
After a short conversation, we laughed, and we exchanged numbers. I was still having dinner with Chris, but I wanted to see Eva again. She remained bewitching. It wasn’t an incomparable beauty although she was beautiful. It wasn’t education, or money, although she had plenty of both. Another apt but trite statement, Chris would tell me, it was HER. Remember when you were in middle school? The field trip to the big city? You got on the bus at the end of the day and sat down next to the crush you were too shy to tell you had a crush on. They felt the same way but were equally shy. The jolting through the city. Her head descending onto your shoulder until she slept through the ride. Wishing the ride would never end. And so it was with Eva on the ferry. But end it did.
She stepped away from the rail but then turned and lightly touched my hand. A second. A fleeting second. It wasn’t an apology. Or an invitation. Just intimate with neither promise nor closure attached. A door unlocked but not open. She vanished down the companionway, the scent of Giorgio Red trailing in her wake. Her ponytail friskily and dutifully following her. One thing hadn’t changed, her small, tight behind had been impacted by the 15 years.
Then the crowd swallowed her up, and I didn’t see her again that evening, or the day after, or the day after that.
That was it until yesterday when I entered the restaurant. The smell of garlic filled the air. The lights were obligatorily dim. The wood gleamed and the marble floor made shoes clack. But none of that really mattered. The ponytail beckoned me to the bar, where she perched on a stool. But she owned the stool. There was nothing dainty nor slouchy. Just her. Eva.
And I approached her.
She already had a rum and Coke waiting. Even though I had told her I wasn’t sure I’d come. Sitting next to her rosé. Some things never changed.
The rum was strong. The ice was cold. She was warm. And real. And sitting next to me. Isn't that the recipe for a new beginning?
At the beginning I was upset if they weren’t going to be together. Nice capture of emotions and sensations here 🙂👌 Promising ending. All platforms are well written. Overall enjoyable read @snowedin 👏👏👏👏
@Rosexøxø Hi praise @rosex-x! Thank you! Funny, when I started writing I didn't know if they were going to be together. I'm not sure I still do. There's potential for a story there...
I mean it’s that good- I think you ought to finish it 👏😂 But some are so perfectly short and sweet it’s like there it is. Everything to it. Up to you, but I definitely see a good novel there 😊👌
Once upon a time, I ran into an ex-lover of mine who I had not seen in the last two centuries, nor sensed her at all.. and after a short conversation, we both realized that some of our memories had been stolen, well, more like sealed... and we both knew right away, what we had to in order to unseal such memories, either of us would have to bite just a little bit deeper into the other, which is something you should definitely not do with your own kind, not among the primordial ones, nor without a reason greater than the price to pay, mayhem and madness is not worth to unleash out mere curiosity, no matter how strong the thrill of the unknown might be, we both agreed that it was best not to mess with. That was it until yesterday when I woke up and find out that she had eaten all of my Cheetos!! and I, recalled everything again, my Cheetos!! dammit, don't get me wrong, I love to share but that's sharing!! don't take it all away from me and surely not without me!! Isn't that intriguing though... how long Cheetos have been around... among us...
Nice!!! Great story!!
Lmao dude the ‘cheetos’ and ‘among us’ seem like it would be a great collab/ franchise marketing scheme 😂👌 I wanna see Chester in an among us suit fo sho
Hmmm 🤔 I may do multiples lmao oh wellz here we go:
Once upon a time, I ran into an ex lover of mine who I: didn’t recognize, from just their face, on the window shop glass. My breath fogged it up a bit, and I dared not turn around. The autumn air hugged my neck and it’s fair wind brought me a message. A message that would make the hairs on my neck raise.
“Rose?”
I heard that familiar sing- song tune. I couldn’t ignore it... I couldn’t walk through the glass. ‘Why here? Why now?’ I questioned this to myself, along with the many questions flooding my mind, in only a matter of a few short seconds. I turned around. And there he was…even better than when I had last seen him. My conscience pushed me ‘well? Speak to him girl… he’s not going away. Not this time.
why here? Why now?’
“Tobey? Wow.. it’s been a minute.”
”Yeah, you’re telling me. I thought it was you. I mean, you’re the only one who stands outside the bakery shop, like any kid standing just outside of Disney Land.”
“Yeah.. you always noticed things like that.”
I tried not to get confused.
I could feel my conscience fighting me, pinching me in my shoulder with an imaginary arm- ‘Am I speaking to the memory? Or him? Shit. We’re not dating anymore; keep it casual. Keep it polite and move on. Why’s he here, though? Stop. Do it. Move on. No scenes today.’
“So Tobey..”
“Look can we talk for a minute? I left some things unsaid.”
“Tobey.. I don’t think-
“It’ll just be a second, Rose. It’s not bad. I’ll pay for anything you like inside, anything to get out of this cold. Please..”
‘Girl.. why is there a lump in your throat…
.. give him a chance…
did someone say bread?’
“Alright Tobey…” I laughed a bit in disbelief, with my hand briefly petting my brow, and then I let him lead me inside, past the magical dinging bell. Like we had so many times before…
And after a short conversation, we: realized distance wasn’t the solution to our problems. Our problems were always going to be there to solve, but neither of us were at fault. Neither of us were the solution. But both of us did need each other for something.. something we couldn’t even put into exact words. We just knew. And: sometimes you just know!
That was it until yesterday, when I: got a call from him, asking me if I had came to a conclusion.
And I: told him in these exact words: “I did. I don’t think we should get back together.”
Words I’ll forever regret. Words that will stay a thorn, pierced in my heart.
Isn't that: crazy? In life. How we can find happiness… even if it’s a glimmer or enough to cup in our hands 🤲… and we can still convince ourselves we don’t deserve it, it’s not real, or what we see is only going to get darker and fade?
If I could say one thing to Tobey today. I’d tell him this:
“I’d give anything to see your face in that glass again…
Anything to smell your coffee-scented breath, just a few inches in front of my own, telling me how wonderful life has always been, and will be, and could be… You were my light Tobey. I’m just one of those people who carries thorns and memories of lights that go in and out. Yours will never fade.”
It was at that moment. Tears streaming down my face. I didn’t want to be, but I was-
Talking to the memory of him.
And not him…
-The End
-Xoxo ♥️
I really enjoyed this. I enjoyed the ending that I didn't want. I feel the loss... beautiful writing. I particularly love this: "‘Am I speaking to the memory?"
@SnowedIn well gee 🙂 I do appreciate that. I like the “feels” of writing, but I do get lazy so I think words get jumbled. Poor quality words are used. Things are rushed 🤣 But it’s okay for a fun question like this one. Thanks for the personal share! 🤝😊
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