Lucid Waking

            I suppose you could say Sarah and I were dating each other, but it was more of a friendship than anything. I never really knew she was so infatuated with me until that week. I should have seen the clues, like how she would ask me to Homecoming and the Valentine’s Day dance and how she would often show up at various soccer games to watch me play. I just passed it off as being a good friend.
            We were both adults, so I thought our high school dramas were over and had no idea the next few events were coming. It started when I decided to ask Sarah if she would like to join me for dinner on Valentine’s Day. As soon as I picked her up I knew she had the impression that this was going to be more of a date than a get-together. It seems stupid to say that, but sometimes the way someone gives you a look or just the way they’re dressed you can tell that they aren’t just teasing you. It was somewhat difficult drive because I wasn’t really expecting her to be so giddy and… beautiful. She just glowed and it was hard not to love her.
            I want to make it clear that I didn’t know she was in love with me. And yet, something about it made it quite obvious that I had just been ignoring it all the years I had known her. I remember her starting to get tense after several starts of conversations that I didn’t continue. I was too embarrassed to talk to her much and whenever I tried thinking of something to say, my words turned to oatmeal. When this had happened at previous occasions, she didn’t mind-she just thought it was cute-but I decided I wasn’t going to lead her on a deception path. At the same time, I knew I already had.
            It wasn’t raining until after we got into the restaurant. At this point, I was getting incredibly nervous because I knew Sarah well enough to know that she wouldn’t take kindly to my surprise. It was just the two of us in a room full of other doe-eyed couples. Sarah noticed my nervousness and asked me what was wrong. I had debated to just let it go, but for some reason something inside made me tell her. I didn’t know what to expect but her standing up and walking out of the restaurant wasn’t it. She disappeared around the corner by the time I had gone down the block to chase after her.
            New York is a labyrinth of buildings and even if I wanted to look for her in the pouring rain, it would have been futile. I knew I had no hope of finding her and an even lesser chance of talking to her ever again. It was a stupid point to make, really, and why I told her on Valentine’s Day is still a mystery to me. I wish I could take that entire night back-hell, my whole life to start over and get things right. I’m still not in love with her, per se, but I would give anything to talk to her again.

Filed under: Realistic Fiction by Bri
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            I was never one to bother with love. I had small infatuations, but never something so deep as to give myself up to someone. True, people have told me I was stuck up about it, but those same people have previously told me that it was the hard-to-get nature I sustained that made me irresistible. I don’t really like hypocrisy either.
            What happened that Valentine’s Day was nobody’s business. Sure, Sarah told me the next day, but that was after she walked to my apartment in heels, in the pouring rain. The girl wanted to tell me and I was in no state to object after hearing what she went through. I wish she hadn’t gotten me involved, if I were in her shoes, I would have probably done a similar thing.
            The restaurant was five miles away from my apartment and it was practically hailing that night. Even if it was part of my personality, I was in no state of mind to prowl for a date. Besides, watching sappy movies and eating popcorn was quickly becoming a tradition. That night was no different; I kept to my bitter traditions and kept the microwave popcorn constantly cooking as I ran through at least four different films.
            I remember I was watching Meet Me in Saint Louis when there was a knock on my door. It was well past midnight and I was cautious about opening it. Sarah’s voice called frantically to me, she was crying I could tell, and shivering. I knew she had a date tonight and was quite surprised that she would be crying at my door. I was even more surprised to find her soaking wet, though I should have figured with the rain pelting at my windows.
            Obviously I let her in, gave her some of my clothes and let her sit down by the heating vent. From then on it was like I had opened up Pandora’s box: she poured out her story like water from a pitcher and went through a box of Kleenex and just about half of a second.
            There is no way you are getting the details of what she said from me. I promised her I wouldn’t tell a soul and even though you know I’m involved, I stick by my word. I won’t confirm anything against her…or for her, if you wish to put me up to it that way.
            I haven’t seen her since the March following that disaster when she packed up her stuff and moved to France. We talked a little bit, but I was never good at speaking French and it didn’t help that I hadn’t spoken the language since high school. We never said anything about that Valentine’s Day ever again. There was no reason to bring it up, we were both reasonably happy and nothing right now could change that. That’s all I have to say.

Filed under: Realistic Fiction by Bri
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