Another lifetime

Dear Olivia,

You always smiled as the dusk set in and the last light of the sun gleamed in your eyes. It was beautiful. And that grin of triumph when you found a new flower to cross off your list. Or just the way your voice softened when admiring the stars and talking about the past, present and future.

The first time we met, I was terrified of you. Someone who was always talking loudly and holding meetings of mediation between insulted elementary schoolers or storytelling the fantastical travels of your alter ego: Captain Olive. I stayed out of your way, and only replied when spoken to - as much as was polite. But after that first year, I don’t know what happened…somehow you always sought me out and would drag me along your adventures on pirate ships and rockets. You loved exploring; the planter pot on the windowsill would first house poisonous herbs, then be a home for the lonely caterpillar, then your gateway to communicate with the forest fairies. After the school day you would wait with me for my mother even after yours arrived; she would see us chattering on the bench (well mainly you) and would strike up a conversation with the other parents. If my mother didn’t come within the time you had allotted for the day, you would abruptly jump off the bench, take me to your mother and we would all walk to my house. I think it was the second or third time this happened that I realised I didn’t want to be left behind you. I wanted to be there for you in all the ways you had been for me, in the small moments with the big impacts.

Then we went to high school, and you have no idea how glad I was that you kept by me. I always wondered whether I even deserved this friendship to begin with - you would make new friends in every class, and it was only thanks to you that I didn’t sit alone at lunch. I did have other friends, thanks to you pushing me to talk and hang out with my study groups, “I need you to have people you trust around you even when I’m not there” was your reasoning. Somehow, though, I could never let myself be vulnerable with them; the me with you was only for you to see. You were always the magnet with the better grades, social skills and athleticism. People would rely on you for notes, advice and even to proofread documents for the other members of student council - your fatal flaw was that you could never say no. We would stay after class in the library, that special table behind aisle 7 and between the books of astronomy and flowers, now thinking about it, I suppose that’s how you became passionate about them. I would tease you the entire time, for not setting boundaries, while we rechecked budgeting files. And you would always blush and say that I should have intervened, but people found me weird enough, I don’t think you realised because you’re just blind about these things, but you new friends never really liked me. Why do you think I said “no” so many times? I didn’t want to hold you back.

I always told myself I was lucky to have you around. And I honestly couldn’t imagine a life without you. Despite everything we would have a stroll in the evenings, watch the sunset and just talk about everything and anything. Most of the time it was you talking about your day or some new flowers you found when you took a new route to your doctor’s appointment, but I was happy to listen. When I did talk though, you immediately stopped and gave me your full attention - much more than I deserved.

I remember one time when you were complaining about the boy who always gave you flowers, and how he just couldn’t take a hint. Every week he would come and give you a different type of flower and wait for your reaction. You would smile and beam, but both he and I knew they were fake laughs. I could see his eyes droop in disappointment every time, but somehow he would never be discouraged. Then one morning - I remember it was a Friday because that was the one day we walked to school together - he had somehow recruited the entire class and in his hands, held a bouquet of delphiniums and purple gladiolus: your birth month flower and your favourite flower as it meant strength of character. You were shocked for a full minute taking in everyone with faces of anticipation and how they were each holding either a delphinium or a gladiolus. His best friend held a tray with one yellow carnation and one red rose - the first to refuse his proposal and the second to accept. He must have really liked you to do so much research into floriography to understand your world. You were trying not to show it, but I’ve known you for years: you pursed your lips, to disguise the smile, but your eyes had the endless bliss of someone who spoke your language.

Now you're marrying him just next week, and you really are perfect for each other. He makes you laugh. You both have those small knowing smiles at dinner, sharing inside jokes with your eyes. He wants to do everything for you, and you definitely deserve that. And I am relieved you’re happy. Actually even more than that, it’s healing to know that you have found your second half. Even though I love you. Even though I have loved you for years, your quiet contentment is enough. The way you look at him with adoration. How you re-energise with just one touch. How you can just bury all your worries into his chest and let the world dissipate.

I wish I could be that person for you, but maybe it is for the best you found your soulmate. Now I’m leaving and maybe I’ll send this later in life, maybe it can be something we laugh about when we grow old. But I think it will be fitting if I disappear from the picture. Thank you for bringing me onto the stage, but I think it’s about time I fade into the background, afterall I’m just an extra in your show.

First Mate Ada

Dear Adaleine,

It’s been a year since I’ve seen you. You moved across the country, and I guess now I know why you seemed to be avoiding my calls. I don’t think I was supposed to read your letter, but your mother asked me to clear out the attic and I found it in one of the old boxes. This might be a bit tearstained when by time it gets to you, but you never let me get a word in on what you were to me. You always assumed yourself replaceable, but that couldn’t be further from the truth, it honestly made me so mad whenever you said it. Remember when I blew up that one time in September a couple years ago? Now it’s about time you hear my side:

Everything started on a Monday morning when we were first being introduced to the elementary school. I remember being utterly bored and walking around corridors with the blustering headmaster and my mother nodding along. When we came to the room I was least looking forward to - you already know which one - I just sighed and hoped that we wouldn’t be stuck in there for too long. What is there to do in a room only filled with shelves of books? Well, you actually answered that question without even knowing it. I doubt you remember because you never noticed me that day. You were absorbed in some book that had minimal coloured pictures, which I would have found unbearable. The way you were quietly flipping pages while other students were chatting in loud whispers was curious to me. I think I just stared at you for a bit, daring you to prove me right; that you found that book just as boring as I would, but you never registered anything from your surroundings. The bell rang a few minutes later, and I laughed at the face you made, which resembled a startled rabbit, as you practically jumped out of your chair.

When I finally came to your class, you were sitting in the back, with a book on the corner of your desk. I found it funny how you would glance at it every now and then and sneak in a page or two in between exercises, almost like you were trying to avoid conversation. I, on the contrary, liked being in control, or being someone that people could trust and having a role of leadership. Everyone somehow looked up at me as one of the ‘popular girls’ so to speak, but somehow we’d never had a conversation, or even really encountered each other. So I made it my mission to be in the places that would trigger conversations: remember when I just began appearing in all of your usual places? I went into the library a few minutes before you and began browsing through the shelves. Then you came, greeted the librarian and then came to the same aisle I was in. As you looked up, you half stopped as you realised it was me, and I had the feeling you were about to turn on your heels and leave, so I put on my best smile and said "Hi!" super brightly. I think that scared you even more, and you just nodded and attempted to shuffle out of the way, before I called your name, and asked for any recommendations. You just froze for a second. I honestly thought and still do, that you didn’t expect me to know your name, and I remember thinking, ‘Just what kind of person do you think I am?’ (I don’t think I have ever met someone who thought that negatively of me). It honestly made me quite indignant, and I wanted to showcase how good of a person I was. You slowly turned back and began walking away. I didn’t exactly know what to do at that point, I don’t think I had ever been ignored so completely, but then you paused, looked behind, and gestured to me to follow. You have no idea the sense of relief I felt that at least something I said worked. You walked with purpose in the library, like this was the one place you were sure of what you were doing. You walked to another aisle and picked a book without really looking for it. I was trying to figure out whether you just gave me a random book to get rid of me, or whether you’d had the map of the library imprinted into your mind. You barely gave yourself enough time to say thank you before walking away to a table near the back.

When high school arrived, I was worried about losing you, either to others or because there were too many people around me all the time, and you would just step aside as if you weren’t my best friend. I know I was the one who told you to make some more friends, but I was so worried that you would miss everything that high school was about. I was elated and literally jumping for joy when we saw you had been picked as a winner of the writing contest, and it was nominated for the national league. You couldn’t stop smiling the whole day, although I could see you felt overwhelmed by the sheer number of people congratulating you and I felt like your bodyguard, ensuring that you got a break every now and then. After that you found some others who had a passion for writing and reading, and along with those you hung out with in your classes during study groups, I felt like you were going to forget about me. Then one evening, I was talking with my mother about it, and she simply said “Why not go now?”. From then on I made it our thing to have evening walks so we could talk without others interrupting, just like it used to be.

You were my constant through everything. You say that you don’t know why I stuck around, but you were always someone I could cry on, laugh with, or even debate the more ridiculous things with. You were the one who knew what to say, even though I didn’t want to hear it, and surprised me with small gifts. You know I still have that booklet you wrote when I was preparing for a college interview. I take it to every interview now. And somewhere along our sunset walks and late night library sessions I couldn't imagine a world without you, and even imagined us living together. I didn’t want another boy or girl holding your hand when you were having a bad day, or going to the book shops before opening time to line up and get a signed copy of a new release. I don’t think I could have put a word on it at the time, but now I know it was love. Such a simple word, but so difficult to say. I think it’s overused, and it has lost its depth, but I mean it in the most expansive sense.

I was going to tell you on one of our walks. But something about the way you had a carefree smile, when no one was watching and being in the moment stopped me. I didn’t want to break what we had, this comfortable space where both of us could be who we truly are at heart. Just being without the expectations of others.

Now thinking about it, I don’t know what made me say yes to Aiden that day. I didn’t think he would go to such lengths, and God knows how he found out those were my favourite flowers. I think it was also partially that I didn't want to burden you with my emotions so I could move on, and the fact that everyone was watching as well. It has been safe and I think I started this relationship with like, and am walking into love.

But it's only natural to think of what could have been...

If only I had said something then, if only you had said something then, if only I had broken it off before it became too serious, if only you had sent the letter.

If only.

I wonder what our life would have been like then. With walks along the beach with the waves over our feet, and the slow Sundays in our spot of the library. With trips to the botanical gardens, and making a mess in the kitchen.

I hope in another lifetime one of us manages to be brave.

But I need you to be be happy for yourself in this lifetime. I know you will find those moments of solace, so cherish them. I will eventually fade as you find another one who makes your heart flutter and so you fall over your words. Your real soulmate in this lifetime.

Captain Olive