I never told you about something that happened on the day we were introduced to each other.
Tonight, I saw you from a distance as you were walking to the spot where we agreed to meet. You were wearing a grey sweatshirt with some red lettering on it. You increased your pace when you saw I was already waiting. I felt shy at this sudden and unexpected turn our friendship had taken. I wanted to tell you before the night was over that this would never work. Snap the band-aid, end it before it was too late.
Until, that is, you touched my hair.
A couple of years ago, when we were introduced by someone we both used to know, you didn’t speak a word to me or even acknowledge my presence. I walked away after standing next to you for a few moments, feeling awkward.
I kept telling myself that you weren’t aloof or rude, that you weren’t arrogant, that you weren’t ignoring me. That you were just introverted. Remember this, I told myself. I had no clue why it felt so important.
We sat down with our beers, and I began to peel off the label of mine, as I tried to figure out how best to tell you that this was a bad idea. You reached across the table, held a strand of my hair between your index and middle fingers, and tucked it gently behind my ear. Your thumb brushed against my earlobe.
In that simple gesture, I could see timelines merging, present colliding with the past, memories resurfacing. Perhaps, if such things were true, I had sent a message back in time to me from all those years ago. Telling that version of me not to dismiss or forget you. Reminding myself not to forget that moment
Hi everyone! I’m working on a minimalist fiction project for this year’s #AtoZChallenge. The story will be shared in snippets, and the events occur non-sequentially. It is for the reader to interpret and form the “whole”. You can read all the posts here. Join me, and do share links to your AtoZ posts as well!