Amends

Good morning, it’s been awhile since we talked but I’m in town until next week. I wanted to know if you wanted to get coffee or something and catch up? I don’t know if you still live here, but I thought I’d give it a shot.

I stared blankly at my screen, the bright words etching themselves into my mind as I read and reread them. Was this real? Was this some sort of scam or twisted trick? Why would he reach out? Why now? The questions collided in my brain as I searched for an appropriate response. I set my phone down and tried to concentrate on work. Tried anything and everything to take my mind off of the message and off of the person associated with it. Seconds ticked into minutes which crawled into hours before I snuck a peak at my phone, practically pinching myself to affirm that this message was really there and not some sick illusion created from the depth of my psyche. It was still there. 

Yeah, I’m still in town.

Alrighty, so you want to catch up?

I hadn’t expected his response to be so quick. He knew I was my phone at that point. I had a choice to make. I could hold onto the anger, the bitterness, and the select story I had or I could take a chance and hear him out…

Sure, why not

Cool, lunch on Monday?

Okay

So after four years of radio silence, it came to this. Four years and I didn’t even recognize him in the words of his message. To be fair, I didn’t even recognize myself in them. I found myself wondering, that day, if I made the right call or if I was foolish to try to reconnect with this ghost. 

… 

I remember the feeling I had walking into that small town cafe, taking a deep breath before I entered and wondering what fate awaited me. I saw him sitting in a booth by himself, staring out the window, deep in thought. I almost didn’t recognize him because so much had clearly changed about both of us. He had a solemn, weathered look about him as his boyish golden curls had been cropped down for the military and his once bright and boisterous eyes appeared hardened by the lens of reality.

I started towards him and his face lit up as he saw me, calculating whether to get up to greet me or remain seated. He decided to remain seated and smiled warmly and greeted me as if we were friendly acquaintances at a party where we knew no one else in the room, or perhaps over eager new business partners. A far cry from the best friends to lovers to enemies trope that I considered us to be. I smoothed my skirt as I took my seat across from him and painted on my customer service smile as I greeted him. 

He spoke rapidly at first, asking me how I’d been and what I was up to now. We talked about work, family, travel, and our college days, and for an instance I almost forgot to be mad at him. I almost forgot the years of silence, hurt, confusion, and anger I held over him. We just talked and I remembered for a moment why we were such good friends. 

Eventually he confided the reason he reached out. The answer to all my burning questions seemed to be right at my grasp. I tuned in cautiously, afraid of some hidden ulterior motive, but curious about the missing piece to this story. 

“So I came home after deployment in Korea right? I’ve been home for a week and I leave next week. I didn’t keep up with too many people honestly, just a handful. I was really just cleaning out my room and desk because… once I leave, I’m not coming back here.” he paused and searched my eyes for some indication that this revelation bothered me, but my eyes remained steady, fixed on his and I nodded to affirm this before he proceeded,

“So I was cleaning my desk and I found this letter you wrote me… something like ten years ago for Lent. That was the year you were writing people letters. People who were important in your life, or so you said. So in this letter, you said ‘I don’t know if we’ll still be friends in 10 years… but I hope we are’ and I thought to myself…. Damn…. We’re not friends anymore. And I guess I just wanted to reach out and, as cliche as it sounds, see if time really does heal all wounds” 

The memories of that year come flooding back as I wrack my brain for the contents of that letter. Such a simple gesture and I don’t even remember it. I wrote forty letters that year after all. Something so small and so off handed to me and yet this choice and his choice to keep the damn thing have led to this chance encounter now. Our eyes search each other for a moment before I exhale and release some of the tension in my body that I didn’t realize I was holding as I tell him, 

“I honestly don’t remember writing that, but you know, I was really surprised to hear from you. I thought it might be a joke or spam or something, but I figured it’s been so long. We’re different people now, so I just thought what the heck, may as well see what’s up” I shrugged as I let the honesty slip through my words and tried to gauge his reaction. He smiled earnestly and nodded, saying,

“Yeah I don’t blame you. Our last interaction was… not the best.”

“You drunk called me in the middle of the night to tell me you were in love with me and I told you never to call me again”

“Yeah…. I quit drinking actually. It’s kind of a sad story but you see, my grandfather, he was hit by a car two days before my birthday and then he died from his injuries on my 21st birthday and I took it as a sign to quit drinking”

“Really? I’m sorry to hear that”

“Yeah, it’s okay.. Well it’s not, but you know, it was a pretty clear sign to me.” 

“Wow… Guess a lot has changed in the past four years…” I murmured, feeling my words stagnate as I thought, simultaneously, about how much life we lived without one another and how much life was lost. He gave me a rueful smile as he volunteered,

“I’d like to think so. You know, back in high school, I was so naive. I wanted to go to war, I thought it was exciting and I was so caught up in the fantasy of it all… well, now I don’t. I’ve spent all this time traveling and reflecting on what war would mean to this world and I don’t want it.” I regard his words curiously, thinking about how the man who sits before me is a far cry from the reckless, loud-mouthed, teenage boy I both rolled my eyes at and loved. 

“You really have changed haven’t you? I mean, I could say the same for myself. High school me would be horrified of who I’ve become” I added with a dry laugh.

“Horrified?” he smirked, “and who have you become?” I pondered this question for a beat, wondering if the words that would spill out of my mouth would be the truth or a pretty, well-crafted lie. It wouldn’t matter to him either way, so the choice was ultimately mine. He would have no way of catching my lie because he didn’t know me anymore, not really, besides, we wouldn’t talk after this. I was sure. 

“A bit of a workaholic I’m afraid. That’s why I didn’t have much free time when you asked to catch up. I’m working about three part time jobs right now and I’m in a Masters program. It’s funny really, I made a deal with a friend that we’d get our Masters before we ever got married and I can confidently say I’ll be holding up my end of that deal. At this rate, I may as well get a phD before I get married.” I pause, surprised at how much I shared with him, surprised by how easy it was. I meet his eyes and find myself warmed by how intently he’s listening to me, trying to take in every scrap of who I was for the four years we weren’t in each other’s lives. I’m feeling the tug of lost time pulling against the weight of knowing our time is coming to a close. My thoughts are jarred by his interjection,

“Wow, you know I can relate to that. I’ve seen a lot of my buddies in the military settling down and making all these choices, but I realize now I’m not ready to settle down. I need to prioritize my job and I want to travel and just experience the world. If it works out for me to date someone that’s fine, but I’m not ready to settle down.” I smile as I picture this free, bachelor image of Alex with his detachment from any time or place or person. How different our lives have been in the past few years and yet I can’t help but wonder if our heartbreak and our failure at love shaped us in even the tiniest way into the commitment-fearing cynics that we are today. 

We laugh for an hour of stopped time, a fractured slice of connection that we know we’ll never get back, before it’s time to go. He stands first after getting the bill and I gather my things and follow. We stroll lazily to the parking lot, knowing this time portal is about to close. He offers a hug and I savor the familiarity that I haven’t felt in half a decade. 

“Well… if you’re ever in El Paso-” he offers politely, but I shake my head,

“I don’t think I ever will be.” he nods, accepting that this is the end of the road.

“But I’m glad we did this, I’m glad that we could make amends.” he smiles at this and calls out over his shoulder as he walks away,

“That’s all I’ve wanted for the past four years”