Requiem for the Loved

Go out of your way to meet people. Even though you might lose them, you may love them too, and that's always worth every minute.

As the woman walked away, I had a strange feeling that I'd see her again, but I also knew she'd be walking away then too. Nonetheless, I forgot about her. In fact, I completely forgot about her. So, when I saw her again 19 days later, I didn't even think she looked familiar.

When she greeted me, I fell in love. What a voice. Not real love, of course, but love-at-first-sight love. Not lust, not love, but something between them.

"Hi, you dropped this." She grinned as she handed me a small. colorful slip of paper.

Dumbstruck, I took the paper from her. I looked at it. It was a business card from a psychic my sister made me visit with her last week.

"Thanks." I looked up at her and held out my hand and introduced myself. The look in her eye told me I missed something.

"I-- I know." She looked at my hand. "We met a couple weeks ago."

Confusion consumed me. "I think I'd have remembered you." I pulled my hair back, like I used to whenever I was trying to look cool.

The woman bit her bottom lip, clearly fighting an agitated retort. "Maybe you'll remember this," she finally said, turning away. Seeing her walk away again, I realized that we had, in fact, met. Exactly 19 days prior.

A quick recap of our first meeting: I was getting donuts for myself and my twin cousins from Nebraska, who were in town for the week, and I decided, when I saw her, to buy her a coffee and some donuts. We had a few laughs and, a few hours later, a couple drinks. Just a couple beers. Nothing memory-hindering. After that, we parted ways, as I mentioned at the beginning. Before watching her walk away for the first time, we had gotten along famously. I relearned all of this at a later time. I still can't really remember it.

Anyway, after this second encounter, I made a point to remember the face of this enchanting darling. If I saw her again, which I hoped I would, there would not be another mistake.

A month passed without running into her. That was fine. I try not to dwell on people I can't keep in touch with. But then I saw her again and was captivated. Normally, that would be fantastic. I'd talk to her and we'd get to know each other better and maybe even go on a date or simply become good friends. As it happened, the situation was less ideal. I was already on a date when I saw her. She saw me too. She saw that I was on a date. She smiled sadly at me, then disappeared. My mood must have soured considerably because my date became much less talkative and I ended up home early and alone.

The next day, I saw her again. She looked at me, but avoided eye-contact. I approached anyway, knowing it would be awkward, but also thinking it would be worth it. I didn't know how right I was.

"I remembered you when you walked away, you know. You were right," I said, sitting next to her on the bench. It was a lovely day to be at the park. The sky was spotted with clouds that teased rain, but the sun shone and the air was fresh.

"I was more worried about the fact that you forgot in the first place." She stood up. "I mean, I like to think I'm a bit more interesting than that."

It's always hard to think of things to say when you're actually talking to someone in person, especially when you've potentially upset them. But you must say something. "I have the impression that you're right. I just had a lapse of memory, I suppose."

She wasn't facing me, but I knew she rolled her eyes. "Do you even remember my name?"

"No."

"Then how can I-- why should i even talk to you?"

"Because there was a reason we connected. There was a reason you talked to me the second time we met."

"But obviously that was one-sided."

"If I didn't like you, I think I'd remember why."

She sat down again.

"I'd like to take you out on a date."

"I don't want your pity."

"It's not pity. If anything, it's curiosity. But in reality, I want to reconnect and remember why the only thing I remember is getting along." I held my breath. That was long-winded and awkward and a little risky.

Her only response was to speak 10 numbers and walk away. She seemed to do that a lot.

It took me about 4 minutes to realize that those 10 numbers were a phone number. Luckily, I was determined to remember every word she spoke and every movement she made from then on.

I called her at 7:28 PM that very evening. Hesitating now would only cost me. We met 3 days later, one Friday in June, to have our first real date. We went to a travelling show, then we had a picnic. Someone decided to shoot off some fireworks. It was a delightful evening. We had real chemistry.

As time went on, I grew to love her. And despite the fact that she often said love doesn't exist, I know she loved me too.

3 years, 6 months, and 18 days later, I find myself grieving. 16 months ago, she contracted a disease that the doctors didn't know. Every time they tried to study it, the virus died on their table. It still lived in her body though.

I'll spare the details, but she has now passed away. And I want to celebrate her life, but I also must grieve. Perhaps there will come a day when I don't miss her. I came to terms with losing her some time before she ultimately passed, but it still hits hard. The most I can do is honor her in my writing and remember her as she was.

Author's Note

Please review. This is a work of fiction, based on a recent discovery in my own personal life, though much of the feeling is founded in my own experience with loss and love.