I approached my fate with a sense of dread. The sounds of the mall shrank to a dull buzz in my mind. Present, but unimportant. I was focused on finding a face in the crowd, but secretly wishing I wouldn’t.
A sudden movement of a familiar arm caught my eyes. A wave.
She came towards me, with a reluctant stroll. I wonder if my own reluctance was so clear on my face or was it something else that had made her approach me as if I was a timed bomb. A sheepish smile lit her face followed by a quite greeting.
You would think we were we were strangers meeting on a first date, rather than people who knew the worst and the most intimate of thoughts of each other.
“Hey, how are you”, I said. I held my breath and forced a smile to hide the anger, resentment and hurt which were so clearly visible in my eyes. I always did have trouble with that. Even though I revealed nothing, my eyes always acted of its own accord and never hesitated to show everyone all that I held concealed.
As it usually happens, we had grown apart due to the nuisances of ever day life. No longer bounded by the shared activities, it required effort to maintain what we had and keep that connection open. The first few times, I jumped at every opportunity to carry my side of the bargain and find my way back. And force her to do the same. She matched my enthusiasm when together, but that osmosis ceased to work after we said our goodbyes and went our separate ways. Nothing seemed to work. She became an untouchable distant memory, and a presence only accessible during those brief, rare meetings. And soon, I grew tired of it all. The distant, the one-sided effort, the rekindling, the semblance of all was well only to be shattered within hours.
Perhaps she didn’t require as much… attention, love? Or perhaps I demanded too much.
I held my breath as we tried to brief each other on our lives since our last meeting. She spoke at length, I noticed her grow at ease as she became animated and descriptive. I quietly watched and reacted at the appropriate remarks. To passersby we must have looked like two dear partners in crime. It took me back to when this was more than just a semblance.
Soon, it was my turn. I held back. Sharing only the inconsequential events and bitterly putting a lid on all those intimate thoughts and problems and wonders which, at one time, I would have parroted to her so that we may solve and wonder over them together.
“That’s it?”, she seemed unimpressed. The lines of her mouth tightened, and creases formed in her forehead. She knew me well enough to know when I held back. My eyes, the pair of blathering idiots, blazed with all that I held back.
I waited, then. And held my breath. Hoping and praying that my reluctance in opening myself up to this game we played would show her my wounds. How much it hurt every time we opened this door between us, and she shut me out a couple hours after I had crawled and hauled myself to open my door. This time, I wished with all my heart that my eyes would express just how much this conversation was costing me. But I held on. I could not, will not, open myself to the repetitive trauma.
“Let’s go shop for some office clothes, I am all out”, she said.
I breathed again. Relieved that I succeeded in holding on and that I needn’t take up the gruesome task of finding my way back.
I realized with a wry thought that we were more wary of each other than the first time we met, when we were truly strangers.
Now, we were looking strangers, with a sketch of the bones and blood and box of all the experiences we had endured, but unsure of how they had shaped the person in front of us.
“That sounds exciting. Yes, let’s”, I said. And we walked towards our shared destination, with the shadows of our past and all that left unsaid behind us.
I squared my shoulders, took a deep breath and set off towards finding my way.
