It’s funny to think about the fact that if I were to have waited maybe, what? Thirty more seconds, I would have missed you. It’s the truth in that that gets me thinking about circumstance and the way the universe works. That’s what meeting you did to me. It made me think about the mechanics of life and one day I would be asking, why do things have to operate this way? Why does someone get to waltz in my life and then storm out and it be OK?
But at the time of meeting you, I just didn’t question anything.
I had seen you many times before within the short time of being in your surroundings — you with your buddies womanizing every girl in site. My friend and I just pointed and laughed every time and even tried to create dialogue of what you guys could possibly be saying to these girls. And then I became one — the sweet, sweet irony.
I put my drink down, walked to the same place you were, caught you in a moment, and then had you right then and there. Sometimes I wonder what other people were doing in that moment that was so important to me. Those little seconds, they are so strong in that they carry a weight of importance in my life. But what about someone who was just scrolling through their phone, breaking up with their significant other, or even doing such a simple task as washing their hands? I guess what I was doing was simple too. I was trying to go to sleep but time said not right now. No, it said to me. You’re going to meet someone, you will marvel at them and adore their company, and then maybe…you can rest.
Time was in control that night and I see that now. Maybe it was in control all along because we knew we didn’t have much of it left. Vacation was almost over and you had found me when my exhaust had reached its’ max capacity.
Of all the little memories I have from our short time together though, one of them stands out the most. And it’s not the one you would be thinking of either, sir. It’s when you and I were sitting on the chairs in that one spot — you know it. We were looking at Facebook, showing each other who the other one was and diving into all these things that we wanted to tell each other because that is what humans do, right? We become these people just so we can share with others exactly who we want them to see us as. And that leads me to my point. You were projecting and I was too busy seeing right through you. And in those moments when I rolled my eyes at you and told you to stop with all the gimmicks (although not the first and definitely not the last), you said to me:
You’re really calling me out on my shit right now, and I kinda like it.
And so did I. I left meeting you with so many emotions and realizations. I left thinking, that is who I want to be. I want to be honest with everyone and have them respect me for it — starting with myself. I want to be the honest person that tells people what I think about them if I feel like they aren’t being honest with me and even when they are. I knew what I had done to make you like being around me and I indulged in that. I indulged in you.
To me, you were my clean start and the possibility of recreating myself was just too damn tempting. But before I could even ask you to stay, you were already gone.
Although things didn’t work out – I still know that your role in my life was crucial. I had many a drunken nights after you, and probably talked about you way too much – until I didn’t talk about you at all. And although my reality sees no you, I still have the memories. I have the time and I have you to thank. So Dear Indiana, thank you for showing me that time makes a difference. Thank you for coming into my life when you did and for leaving the way you did. I owe all of my truths to you.
Note: If you haven’t gotten a chance, please read Dear Mr. You by Mary – Louise Parker. I have decided to mimic this idea and write letters to people that I never got closure with. I hope to do more, and I really hope you enjoy this one! You can buy her book here: https://www.amazon.com/Dear-Mr-Mary-Louise-Parker/dp/1501107844/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1479360112&sr=8-1&keywords=dear+mr+you