I thought I saw you in the Battleship the other week, nursing a drink. It had been so long since I last saw you. You were at the opposite end of the bar from me, swirling something on the rocks. I had never seen you here before and was scared to leave the seat I had married my body to. You looked like you hadn’t aged a bit since we last talked. I couldn’t say the same for myself. How long had it been again? Four? Five? No, it had been six years since you stormed out of my apartment with tears in your eyes and sadness in your heart. I told myself it was just a look alike, but a part of me was worried I would forget your face if I didn’t come over.
After glancing over to you and quickly darting my eyes back to my empty pint glass, I had built up the courage to walk over to you. My heart started to race, and my palms were sweating. I hadn’t been this nervous since the first time I asked you out all those years ago. I was breathing deep, trying to calm myself. The liquor on my breath tasted stale. As I crept closer, I started to see that it wasn’t you, it was only a look alike. She was close, close enough to be your ghost, but my chances were ruined when I called her your name. She was polite about my misconception, but she was not going to let me call her your name.
The next night I found myself at the Rusty Hook with Curtis. He was the one who pointed out that you were sitting at the table near the kitchen. He said you had been checking me out since I walked in in my black denim jacket and old, faded blue, 511s. You were huddled in a wicker chair holding your knees to your chest. I was able to get a good look at you in between one of your stares. By the glow of your strawberry blonde hair, I knew it had to be you. I wondered, had you forgotten what I looked like? Were you nervous to say hello after all these years? I remembered how we met while attending the same university. You were a biology major and I was working for a degree in something my parents would be proud of. It was your sister, Nina, who introduced us. I had psych with her, and she had a knack for playing matchmaker. You two could have been twins despite her being three years younger than you. I remembered being so nervous to meet you, but after that first hello, I was hooked. We spent that whole afternoon getting to know each other which then lead to us eating dinner together, and our relationship quickly started from then on. I had missed our late-night phone calls, the cheesy B-movies we used to watch, how when I held you it seemed like the world could just stop and I could get off with you without a care. I was certain it was you at the Rusty Hook, so without any more hesitation I got up from my seat and walked over to you. You noticed because you didn’t avert your gaze once while I stepped towards you. Curtis was cheering me on subtly from behind. I swallowed my final fears and your face was illuminated by the smoke alarm. I had wandered over for a closer look and kissed whoever was sitting there. She was close, and she held me very tightly, ‘til I asked awfully politely, “Have you missed me, Cass?”
She was confused, but she went with it. Her lips were dry, and her breath tasted of cheap vodka. My eyes focused in on her, and I noticed her subtle differences from you. She had a more rounded nose than yours. Her eyes were green while yours were brown. I had dug myself into a hole, but like a fool I asked, “Can I call you her name?” She was confused and I felt ashamed, I tried to make this girl into something she wasn’t, and I was a pig for that. I quickly spaced myself, sitting across the table from her. Her name was Blah Blah and she told me she was an English major. I told her I’ve read a few books before. I don’t think she ever got the hint I wasn’t very interested, but like a fool, I dug myself deeper into that hole. After a few hours of one-sided conversations, she asked if I wanted to split a lift home with her. I don’t know why, maybe I wasn’t obvious enough, or maybe it was my older age, I don’t know. Like an idiot I said yes, though. She and I left without even saying goodbye to our friends.
Our lift took the long way around, even though I only lived ten minutes away from the Rusty Hook. She, on the other hand, lived across town. She extended her hand across the car’s seats but, I acted as if I didn’t notice. I smelled your scent on the seatbelt, but I kept my shortcuts to myself. Once we got to her apartment, Blah Blah asked if I wanted to come in for coffee, but I said no. I could tell she was a little bummed by this. She gave me her number, but I didn’t save it. I told Blah Blah we would talk soon, plan something during the day, but that was a lie I made up to sound nice when in truth I was far from that. She waved as my lift drove off, but I just looked through her. She wasn’t you, and I knew I couldn’t start anything with her because I would just keep trying to make her into something she wasn’t. I would just keep trying to make her into you.
It’s funny while I was being driven home, I thought of the last time we saw each other. You had come over for dinner, and I had made my famous microwaved meatballs and store-bought spaghetti sauce. It was nothing special, but you always said you loved it. While we ate, we talked about our future. We had been dating for two years by then and we — well you —were finished with your undergrad degree. You had just been accepted into Massachusetts Institute of Technology’s graduate school program for biology while I had just accumulated 100 some-odd credits. You were on your career plan while I was just going to school to keep my mom off my back. I knew this conversation had been coming sooner or later, but I was able to keep pushing it off. This time, however, you weren’t going to let me change the subject or get around it. You wanted to know what our future plans were, and I was scared to answer it because, like most things in life, I hadn’t given it much thought. You wanted me to move with you to Cambridge, but I had never left Washington in my life. You wanted to get a place together and I was afraid I’d lose my personal space. You wanted to get married and I was scared to take the plunge. This wasn’t an easy conversation, and it only ended when you stormed out of my apartment with tears in your eyes. Before I could stop you, you had already driven off in a frantic hurry. I wish, to this day, I could have stopped you.
The final time I thought I saw you was at the Cornerstone. When I saw that you were on your own. I had been fooled numerous times before, but this time was real. It had to be. I didn’t hesitate when I saw you there. I got up from my seat and left Curtis behind again. I walked towards you, but my heart was racing. I had started to sweat, and my breathing was sporadic. As I moved closer, the room felt moist from my exhaling. I breathed so heavy that the walls seemed wet. I was so close to you and not a single cloud of smoke, ill-lit light, or body was hiding your full face from my view. You had changed your hair, but I didn’t mind. Your little brown pools of honey met my eyes. You gave me a huge grin, exposing those two dimples I had loved so much. Your thinner nose was aimed toward me. You hadn’t aged a day. I had finally found you after all these years. I had finally found the pieces of my broken heart. I wanted to rebuild it with you. I was a fool when we last talked. I knew then that you were the future I wanted. I saw us getting a place together. I saw our wedding, and I saw our children. I was staring into you and you were looking into me. I scratched the back of my head and my heart pounded. My mind was a hot mess, my tongue was dry, and you had beat me to the first word, but you sounded different.
She was close, well you couldn’t get much closer. She was Nina and after six years you two still looked so much alike. She remembered me, and I think that’s why she smiled at me the way you used to. My mind had tricked me again and it didn’t take long for streams to flow down my face. I collapsed in her arms and used her shoulder as a tissue. Before she could say another world, I asked, “Please, could I call you her name?”
Wrapping her arms around me and, in some sort, understanding my pain, she said, “I’m really not supposed to, but yes, you can call me anything you want.” I cried longer than I should have, but I needed to. She held me the entire time. She knew I was still broken up about what happened on that night all those years ago. The night you stormed out on me and crossed that intersection two blocks from my place. The night that drunk driver took your life and his own in a horrific accident. That night I knew I’d never see your face again no matter how hard I tried. Life is cruel this way. We can’t go back and change our pasts, we can only learn to live with our mistakes, but even at my age, I am still learning how to.