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A chance meeting
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A chance meeting |
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Kielo Senior Member
since 2002-02-11
Posts 1109 |
I only saw her out of the corner of my eye, but what I saw was enough to wrench my eyes from whatever I was looking at to stare at her, quite openly. She never noticed me; I doubt I ever meant to her half of what she was to me. I stared at her for quite some time, my feelings confused. I wasn’t even fully sure if it was her or not. Her hair was longer, and brown instead of red. It saddened me that it had faded so, but I suppose that her hair was less worn than she had been in the two years since I had seen her last. After recovering, somewhat, from my initial shock at seeing her, reason hit me – hard. I had missed her so… My heart longed to run to her, that very moment, no matter how disruptive it would be – we were in church, singing – but the more sensible part of me wanted to cry, to flee, to escape that very minute. I simply stood, for what seemed like quite a while, then turned to my friend, and asked her to walk with me to the bathroom. She hesitated, initially, but complied when she saw my urgency. Once I was out of sight of the cause of my hysteria, I began to feel better. I explained to my friend that the girl in the room… that she had been my obsession. Remnants of that obsession still lingered on in my heart, and I was terrified that they might take me again, wrap themselves around me like cord, and chain me to her again. I could feel them, wispy threads of longing, reaching out for her. They had memory – the threads, I mean. They remembered her touch, her smile, her warmth. They remembered being loved by her. They remembered that she cared. It filled me with a sort of euphoria, that she was here, and that she could love me. I suppose my worst fault has always been my need to be loved. I know that she was the same way, only more so, but that did not justify my own selfish need. I know everyone needs to be loved, but for me it was an obsession. Knowing that I could get that needed love from her made me happy. All of this, I explained to my friend… and that the year I spent with her was the worst year of my life. She was a drug to me, and I was addicted. When I was with her, I was depressed because she was depressed. When I wasn’t with her, I was depressed because I missed the love I always felt when she was with me. This destructive cycle continued and magnified itself very quickly. When I was not with her, sometimes I would plan to tell her I needed a break from our friendship – at least a break, if not more. However, as soon as I saw her, every such intention was gone from my mind in less than an instant. So our friendship – if you could call it that – continued, to my unknowing demise. Innocent as I was, I don’t think I knew fully how affected I was. I knew that we used each other. I figured it out, at some point. I used her, she used me. We both needed badly to feel loved, and we used people to fulfill our need. I called her on it, once. She denied it, of course, and I, innocent and eager to believe, took her word for it, though I knew it to be false. I was a foolish child. My problem with her reappearance was that I was not so sure that I was not still foolish. I longed to talk to her, to be loved by her, and love in return. Of course, I use the word love quite liberally, because I, in my need for it, associated all kinds of things with it that are not necessarily love, and often missed real love for wanting to feel loved instead. So there I sat on the counter in the church bathroom, contemplating, and crying. By that point in time, my happiness had vanished, and in its place was fear. I was terrified of falling back into obsession, back into the way things were. When I was feeling calmer, my friend and I walked back into the room, and instantly upon seeing her, I was overwhelmed with sadness again. I spent the rest of the night hunched over, crying, and occasionally sneaking looks at her, hoping she hadn’t seen me. Not because I didn’t want to be seen, but because I didn’t want her to see me upset. For some reason I thought she would know it was because of her return that I was upset. Naïve little me, and possibly arrogant along with it. The pastor finally finished talking, and I stood around with my friends, occasionally glancing at them, but keeping my eyes trained on her. As soon as she appeared not to be busy, I very nearly swarmed her. I smiled, said my hello. She opened her arms for a hug, and instantly those tiny threads of longing thickened, pulled harder. I returned the hug, both because I longed for it, and because it would be rude to refuse. I talked with her, very briefly. I gleaned from our brief conversation that she had had a miscarriage, dropped out of school, and was self-conscious about smoking, something she has done longer than I have known her. An odd thing, to my mind, to be self-conscious about, considering that she cuts herself and doesn’t seem to mind broadcasting that. I was struck, in our brief conversation, by two things. The first of which was by far the more surprising. I realized that everything she said was a tactic to gain “love.” This surprised me, because I wondered what the person underneath the longing was like, wondered when the last time she saw the sun was. It shocked me, because I had remembered her as sincere and genuinely depressed about her life, not as using her life to gain acceptance. I had seen her as perfect, except for her depression. The second thing that surprised me was how my heart longed to re-establish our old friendship, if one could call it that, despite how shallow I saw her to be. I waited for her in the hall much later than my parents would be pleased with while she talked to someone, just so I could see her walk by. I did, and never saw her again. It has been half a year, and though she had said that she meant to come back every week, I take by the fact that I haven’t seen her that she is either in the hospital, or dead. I hope that it is the former, for foolish motives. I want her to come visit me again… I know only one thing, and that thing is that I know nothing. |
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| © Copyright 2003 Jeremiah Leonard - All Rights Reserved | |||
Cpat Hair
since 2001-06-05
Posts 11793 |
touching...and insightful... I enjoyed... |
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Kielo Senior Member
since 2002-02-11
Posts 1109 |
 Thank you very much.Moreso because I thought that this had sunk...  Kielo I know only one thing, and that thing is that I know nothing. |
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Cpat Hair
since 2001-06-05
Posts 11793 |
ah... I don't get over here as often as I should..so I always look a few days back to see what I missed. What inspired this if I may ask? |
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Kielo Senior Member
since 2002-02-11
Posts 1109 |
It's a true story. *sad smile* I have written more about this girl than about everything else all together. Most of it can't be posted... But yes, all true, I think. I have a tendency to embellish... lol... but I think this is all straight, honest fact. Kielo I know only one thing, and that thing is that I know nothing. |
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