The letter was less than a page long, but I had managed to fit in everything that I needed to say. I said that I missed him and I loved him and I would always love him. After putting it into the envelope, I placed it in the glove compartment. My radio was fading out because of the overwhelming amount of static filling the barren airwaves, so I calmly turned it off.
The sun was setting beyond the whitecaps of Lake Michigan, creating a semi-circle of reds and yellows on the horizon. The bright shine was a false image; it provided absolutely no heat to my bundled body, curled up in the front seat of my car. Still, I sat motionless and content and watched the stars come out.
As I inhaled my peaceful surroundings once more, Alex’s face appeared. The same static image always came to mind when I thought about the trip that I was about to take. He was wearing khaki pants and a blue button-down, his glasses folded neatly in the front pocket. I didn’t realize at the time that this was it. He would be gone, out of my life, the next day. If I had known that, my parting words would have been more sincere.
Now I look back and dream of being with him again. I wonder how much he’s changed and whether or not he’ll remember me. The first thing I’ll do is ask him why he left without telling me. I want to punch him and slap him and then hug him and never let him go.
***
It was a Tuesday night. We had just seen a movie, a terrible one in fact, and we sat in the empty parking lot discussing it for thirty minutes. Alex was his usual self, apologizing for things he couldn’t control.
“I’m so sorry, Mia. If I had known how bad it was, I wouldn’t have brought you to it,” he said. “I’m sorry I wasted your time.” He seemed embarrassed because he hadn’t looked up at me once during our conversation.
“It wasn’t the greatest, but it was okay,” I lied. “You didn’t waste my time at all.”
“Yeah, well, I thought it was going to be a nice drama. I’m really sorry. I didn’t know.”
“Thanks for taking me anyways, Alex.”
“I mean, the trailer didn’t even say anything about...”
“It’s okay, Alex, alright?” I interrupted. “It was only six dollars. I’m not upset, so don’t you be either.
He was staring straight ahead, eyes raised in a conscious gaze. His curious countenance studied the instruments on the dashboard, his hands lightly trembling. Without hesitation, the question shot out of my mouth.
“Why do you always feel so sorry?” Suddenly I felt I had crossed over the line of comfort. I wanted to apologize myself and crawl back into my cave.
Alex turned on the engine and put the car in drive without saying a word. I wished I hadn’t been so prying and pushy. He finally answered my question with a typical, simple answer: “I don’t know.”
***
It was completely dark now. The stars had scattered their arrangements across the silent heavens while I was dreaming. No one was on the streets at this hour, not even another car, so I stepped into the crisp evening and stood in the middle of the road.
The streetlight above my parked car was burned out, but I didn’t care. I could hear the swelling waters in the surrounding darkness, and the town lights glowed behind the shadows of the pinewood forest.
This very road would take me to Alex. I had been planning my trip for several weeks, and it was time to go, time to leave the comfort of my hometown and the life I once thought was perfect. I convinced myself that I had pushed Alex away, and now I was determined to get him back.
I came to the edge of the road. Five feet of sand and gravel separated me from the dune’s gradual slope, slipping beneath the harsh waves of the lake. Silvery strips of light from the full moon danced across the water, and I was momentarily hypnotized.
Suddenly I found myself sitting next to him again. I was in his car, and he was driving, but he didn’t seem to notice me. The radio was on low, but I could just barely hear the music. It was our song: “Yesterday”. Alex tapped his finger on the steering wheel as he sang along. “All my troubles seemed so far away. Now it looks as if they’re here to stay. Oh, yesterday came suddenly.” He was a great singer, although he was too shy to admit it.
“Oh, Alex. Why did you leave?” I whispered, not expecting a reply.
He stopped singing and turned his head. “You left me, Mia.”
I shrieked just in time to catch myself from tripping down the side of the dune. Alex and his car were gone, and I was alone by the lake again.
***
I tried to apologize indirectly. “I didn’t mean it like that, Alex,” I said. “It just seems like you’re too hard on yourself sometimes.”
We were passing around a bend on Lake Shore Drive, a few short turns from my house, and the heavy ambience had not yet lifted from our conversation. I knew Alex was thinking really hard because all of his answers had been generic since we left the theater, which was ten minutes ago.
“Sometimes I say things without thinking. I would never, ever say something to hurt you. I like you too much to do that.” I caught myself speaking without hesitation again, but that finally got a reaction from Alex.
“Really?” he said.
“Yeah, really,” I answered. The words floated from my heart to my brain and out of my mouth without a hint of uncertainty.
Before I knew it, we were pulling into my driveway. My housemates had forgotten to leave the porch light on again, so we sat in the dark. The moon had risen to its highest point, and the light struggled through the tangled mass of naked trees. Alex’s headlights bounced off the cold Michigan mist collecting in front of the car.
“I’m sorry I apologize so much, Mia,” Alex said, laughing timidly afterwards. “But really, I don’t mean to upset you. It’s just that I want everything to be perfect for you. I’ve dreamed about being part of an “us” some day, and I always wanted it to be just right. You and me; “us”.” He paused. “I love you.”
It all seemed too abrupt and pure to be true, and I wasn’t prepared with a response. Our last two years flashed before me: senior prom, high school graduation, college registration, spring break in San Francisco, three long semesters at MSU.
“I, well, gee...” The words stumbled out. “I mean, I love you, too, Alex.” I threw myself towards him and we kissed long and hard. Our hands felt each other’s happiness, along his chin, across my cheek, through the strands of my flowing hair, and down his soft neck.
***
I got back into my car and stared at the moon. It was in that familiar spot in the sky again, directly above me, and I squinted until the fuzzy haze dissolved from around it. It looked the same as it had when I said goodbye to Alex that night, miniscule against the dense blackness that engulfed it.
My radio was still off and the letter for my friends and family was safe inside the glove compartment. I didn’t know how to tell my parents or my housemates why I was leaving, so I wrote it all down. It took several drafts, but I managed to condense it into a few paragraphs.
I thought about Alex and recalled our last words. “Good night, Mia,” he said. “I love you.” And all I said back was, “I know. Good night.” He pulled out of my driveway and down the road, never to return.
Reminiscing made the guilt come back. I slammed down on the horn and screamed, “God damn it!” but it didn’t change anything. I was still alone. “I’m on my way, Alex. I’m not gonna let you go!”
Then, out of the corner of my eye, I thought I saw Alex’s car in my rear view mirror. I couldn’t hear the characteristic gurgle of his engine, but I recognized his blue vehicle immediately. He slowly passed by me without even waving or honking “hello”.
“Alex?” I thought out loud “Where are you going?”
There was a sound of surging waves from the lake at the bottom of the dune, right ahead of us, warning drivers of the curve and the bridge. Alex kept driving.
Then I saw it. It was a deer or maybe a dog. I cried out for him to stop, but he didn’t see it coming. It ran out from the woods on the left, and everything slowed down. I saw Alex’s break lights flash bright red, but his tires didn’t make a sound. Everything was silent.
And then I saw his car turn, but it didn’t turn with the curve in the road. The curve went to the left, and Alex went to the right. Sand and gravel rushed into the air, and he disappeared over the edge of the dune.
I started my car.
“Don’t worry, Alex, I’m here. I didn’t leave!”
I flicked on my lights, stepped on the gas, and followed in the skid marks his tires had left behind. And then I was flying, soaring down the dune but floating up into the night sky. I closed my eyes right before my car hit the water, and I was thrown forward. The coldness quickly filled the back seat and then the front, until I was gasping for air.
In an instant I found myself in his arms, and I was warm again. He held me and caressed my body as he had that night so long ago. We held each other and looked into each other’s eyes.
“I’m sorry,” we said in unison. |
