Benjamin's Writings

a creative piece

HOW IS IT THAT ONE encounter with you can decimate me for an entire day?

I saw you before then. I was sitting down with my friends at Burger Urge during our hour break between classes. It was after one in the afternoon. I was sure I wouldn’t run into you; none of our classes align. Running into you two weeks prior was entirely coincidental. Though I like to believe that not everything is based on coincidence.

You were walking down the main arterial path that led into the university, from the tram stop that you usually use on a Wednesday for your lunch class.

I almost didn’t recognise you. You seemed to slouch more today than usual – and your hair is longer than since I last saw you properly. Has it really been that long since we’d hung out together? It doesn’t feel like it.

You were kind of walking with a woman. I’d never really seen your ‘mom’ before, except for a quick glimpse on a facetime video – when you were trying to log into Netflix so we could watch a movie together. That was the first night that I stayed over. Her name is Lorry. I’m proud of myself for connecting the dots so fast. You were a step ahead of her, but for some reason I identified you as together.

I remembered you said she was going to come visit you while you were studying here – I had no idea when – I guess you never really revealed those kinds of small, intimate details to me. You always kept me at arms-length.

During those moments that passed so slowly, I don’t recall what my friends were discussing. That’s how easily I get lost in you. I noticed you were vaguely looking around the area. I was deep in the crowd of seats and people. I kind of hoped you’d see me, though I knew I wasn’t ready to make eye contact.

I acutely remember trying my hardest to pay attention to my friends, to make it seem like I hadn’t seen you, like I was very aware of the conversation we were all having.

I looked back over. You were loosely scanning the crowd again. I averted my eyes back to my friends again – a split second before your eyes landed on me. I didn’t see your reaction though – to noticing me. Would you have waved, while with your mum? I don’t think she would’ve noticed.

I told you I wasn’t ready for eye contact. I think I just dodged having that awkward millisecond of noticing each other while trying not to. I saw just enough to know you saw me. Was it just enough time for you to think that I was just moving my head? Did you see my eyes watching you?

Seconds later, when I dared to look up into the crowd again, you were gone. Your ‘mom’ was at Providores, but you weren’t in sight – I couldn’t see your white shirt with black horizontal stripes.

The moment I first saw you though-

My heart ached instantly. A dark cloud hovering over with not a second of hesitation. I hated – hated and loved – the instantaneous control you had over my emotions. Such a true, dark power to wield – and you wield it so carelessly.

The rest of lunch passed by. My friends and I packed up, heading to our next class. I knew there’d be a high chance I’d see you on my way to class. You didn’t have a class this time on a Wednesday – you were only here with your ‘mom’, maybe some friends, too.

I knew if I was going to see you, it’d be within these fifty metres throughout the few eateries on this side of campus.

My friends and I were walking. I didn’t look for your ‘mom’ to see if she was still at Providores. But my eyes were on the crowd – they always are, I guess.

But you brought a sense of hyperawareness to me.

You were seated right to the edge of seats at Guzman Y Gomez, the closest possible seating to the walkway through campus. Christine was there – and another girl, but I didn’t see her face enough. I was focused on yours.

You saw me, too. For that second that we noticed each other. You were still slouched, eating GYG. Christine saw me too, but we’d never really chatted much. I only had enough time to wave and smile to you.

I was on the far outside of my friends – only for a split second did I consider stopping and talking. But you were with two friends, and you all had lunch. It would’ve been rude to stop, and slightly awkward. I’d want you all to myself, not to share the conversation with two other people.

I smiled first. I’m pretty sure you were chewing on the last bits of a mouthful of food – you didn’t smile with teeth. It’s such a shame. You have such a beautiful, full smile. It didn’t reach your eyes. I miss seeing those smile lines crinkle up when you laugh.

My smile reached my eyes. Maybe not in the way it does when you laugh at a show and check to see if I’m laughing too. But I’m sure it reached my eyes.

Then I waved, a small, brief wave. But I waved. You did too.

God, I wish we had more time – I wish you were more invested, more interested.