In That Alley

My fantasy lives from when I cut into that alley until I pick you up or drop you off.

In my mind, you have planted a kiss on my lips a couple of times in that tight alley. In my mind, the goodbye has lingered longer; in my mind, I have picked you up there plenty of times.

Piles of powder snow, carefully tucked onto the shoulder of the road. Tiny dunes of that snow spilling over the pavement. Cars parked on both the sides, making it impossible to pull over anywhere on that street. Somehow, all the traffic in town wants to pass through this tiny 50 yard long alley, short end of which is where your apartment is.

In my mind, I have always found a spot to put my car into park and lean towards you. In reality, you may have had one of your legs out of the door before I even come to a complete halt. Your seatbelt is off long before I cut into the alley.

In one such tight alley in my mind, my naïve, young, silly self is fighting the oncoming traffic of my worldview and mildly pessimistic self. “Have you seen how she smiles at me” is met with, “she was out of the car even before you could tilt to see her leave.” … “look it has been three hours since I met her. Time just flew by..” is countered with “She split the check and gave you that good ol ‘see you soon.’ Wake up Man.” “No, I think there is something here. It is just taking time” is answered by a silence and then the thud of the door closing after her.

She never turns. I know this because I don’t want to miss out if she does.

In one such tight alley, I have held your hand and meandered.

So if one gorgeous evening, you decide to turn around, please do.

I still will be in that tight alley.  Fighting.  Hoping.

Neo

He Knew

“Are you ok ? Was that the first time you saw them together?”

“Yes”

“I walked in with them. I would have texted you but I saw that you had already started the work out”

“Oh Well”

“Why did you guys keep quiet? She happily introduced him to me.”

            “ “

Why did he? Why was he afraid, was it what people may think? Was it the fear that if they didn’t work out what then? Was he waiting for it to go more steady …

Was it the first time he had let it happen

No.

That last text message, sent him 12 years back. Back when he met his first ever girl-friend. He was 17 and she was 18. A little bolder, smarter, outspoken than him and gorgeous like no other 18 year old.

Relationship ran its course, he had his heart broken two and half years later.

Never even once he spoke the word “meet xxxx, my girlfriend” All of his friends had met her and he figured what is there to say, they will figure it out.

Sure they did. But did he ?

Fast forward a few years forward, he met this girl who played ‘plastic jesus’ by jack Johnson in room lit with candles in heart of the city of Berlin. He knew what he needed to know. A year later, when he was parting ways at the airport, unbeknownst he had gone this whole year without even once saying out loud – “Hey Sebastian, meet xxx, my girlfriend.”

And names and stories flashed in front of him as he rolled the dial on years passed - forward. Same stories with different time stamps yet similar endings. Sad.

And when his mind steadied on the present and he returned to his tungsten lit living room, there was only one face, one name in front of him. Someone he met a few weeks ago. These weeks have felt like months, perhaps, years to him. And he picked up the phone and almost rung her up but then stopped and looked at the watch and kept the phone aside.

That night as he slipped into bed, and pulled the blanket over, he knew, he had to get out of his own way of finding happiness.

He had to stop romanticizing hurt and pain post-facto. Rather, he had to embrace the likelihood of denial and happily ever-after, alike.

He knew, what he needed to do, what he needed to say.

Neo