I have seen you so often, dear
“She may be coming to the gathering…oh who knows, maybe she doesn’t care at
all…why, she could have come last time if she really cared….”
The notion had been puzzling him since the moment he received the notice about
the upcoming 90-year anniversary of his alma mater, and the moment when some of
his old buddies talked about holding an all-classmate gathering, too. He had never forgotten the sweet girl, for whom he actually fell head over heels one year after graduation despite the fact that she seemed so strange to him during all
the school years. He was so young then, enthusiastic but inexperienced in many
ways. Considering her the most charming girl in the world (indeed), he thought
he was the very lucky guy under the sun. The girl seemed to have the same feeling for him, too, and predictably, he had the time of his life the first year when they went out together. He could remember how desperate he became whenever her letter hadn’t arrived as expected.
Bitterness came, though, when the second year approached. He was more and more often told how she felt the pressure of life -- they lived far from each other
, as far as more than three hours’ of bus drive. No matter how hard he tried to please, she became very quick to get upset. Deeply hurt, and exhausted both physically and spiritually, at the middle of the second year the boy finally gave
up and agreed to stop the relationship.
Never was he able to get rid of her image in his heart, though, and in his dreams. No greetings. No news. Nothing had happened since then; and the boy gradually became reconciled to the idea that it had actually been a sweet yet bitter
dream.
Time flew.
You never know how amazing life could be. Fifteen years after the arrival of
the Dear John letter, here came such an occasion on which he might be able to see her again. Fifteen years wasn’t a short while, but he immediately recognized
her the first moment he saw her. He greeted her as an old friend, trying to look as calm as possible, but he knew how heavily his heart was pounding. “Thank
you, the Omnipotent, for letting me see her again,” he talked to himself. She
didn’t stay long and he didn’t get the chance to talk to her privately, even
for a while. With butterflies in his stomach, he plucked up the courage and fetched his cellphone.
“Hi,”
“Hi,”
“How’s the trip?”
“It’s fine.”
“I am glad I could see you again.”
“…Me too.”
“You know what…for all these years I have seen you so often.”
“But how?”
“In my dreams.”
“…Me too….”
He could feel the tears clouding his eyes. Fifteen years. Only after fifteen
years of separation did they realize how they really cared for each other. What if he had the courage earlier, and what if the clock could be turned back….
“I wish you happy…take care.”
“Me too…take care.”
*******
With this short essay I am trying a new style of writing. Please let me know what you think about it. Thank you, all my friends.
Panpanpan.
