When the past reaches into the present
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“Miriam!”
“Yes!” I turned suddenly to see my friend with her hand on her hip
“Aren’t you listening to a word I’m saying?”
I smiled a crooked smile and said “frankly my dear… no.”
“Ah! What is wrong with you”?
“Nothing”
“Yes there’s something wrong. We just passed Neiman’s and you didn’t even glance.”
“Oh, did we? When?”
“Somewhere in between… what’s with you?
I sigh one of those horrible sighs that reaches into your heart and makes it skip a beat
“I don’t know. It’s a mixture of hormones or my past reaching into my present. My present making me feel jaded, my future being a blur. Or the lunch we just ate that gave me heartburn. Take your pick”
She laughs, “You need serious shop therapy and I know exactly what will do the trick” so she swings me around and we head straight to the vintage shop I love.
She drags me through the rows of 1950’s dresses, art deco pieces, and old tacky furniture. I drag my feet through the store not showing interest in anything. I’m having one of those days where nothing catches my attention or moves me deep enough to drop hundreds of dollars for. So it isn’t long till we leave the store.
The only thing I was craving was about 7 ounces. And his name was Latte. After getting our drinks. I sit down as I wait for my friend who decided she needed a bathroom break. I sit reading my email on my phone. As I hear a familiar voice say my name. Chills run down my body, as I look up, and the “Past” is staring straight at me.
Before I could say anything, he was all ready sitting down, staring into my eyes the way only he knew how.
“How are you?” those were the first words I blurted. Not – I hate you; you broke my heart, or the other thousands of things I’d planned to say when I saw him again. No! Just a simple “how are you?" What followed was a polite, short conversation about family, current jobs, and simple weather conversation. His phone rang; he looked up, and said, “I should go”.
“Oh ok” I said. But he didn’t, he just looked at me and smiled
“Yes?” I said
“You’re still just as beautiful” then he turned around and walked away. And my heart began to beat again.
“Who was that?” Said my friend returning from the ladies room.
“No, one.”
“Right… You’re doing that thing.”
“What thing?”
“You bite you’re lip when your nervous, who was he”
“A bad habit I had to break,” I said as I bit my lip.
Life’s funny that way. Just when you put it behind you. Just when you forget where you have been. The past comes back into your life and you realize you still care. The next day as I was at work I was angry with myself for letting him stir something inside me. I hated the feeling, the emotion, the moment. I went through my email still having a very serious conversation with my self when I peeked at my inbox. And sure enough there it was, he’d written an email. It was short and simple.
Hey kid. Just wanted to tell you it was good to see you again. I didn’t lie… you look absolutely beautiful.
I hated when he called me kid. And his nerve to just jump into my life like that. Ah! I slid my cursor to the delete button and in that moment I wished not only to erase a simple message, but the past, the memories, the tears, the pain, the feelings that still remained. I clicked it frantically. Maybe I wasn’t looking at what I pressed but when I looked up the screen message read “Message has been moved to your outbox. You can view the message by going to your Outbox
folder”. And I sighed one of those horrible sighs again, yes, the ones that reach into your heart and make your heart skip a beat.
See that’s the thing about the past. Sometimes there are no delete buttons. No way of erasing those tragic or desperately hurful moments or people from our past. Maybe it just gets shifted to another part of our lives or somewhere deep into the back of our hearts and our minds. Till the moment when you’re strong enough to face it again or till your outbox is too full that it over flows into your present...
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