Always You

By Sowmithaa Shri S

I get a ticket for the metro and wait for her. She's late as always. I chuckle thinking about all the excuses she makes ever since she figured out that I'm bored of hearing the routine "sorry I was caught up with work and didn't see the time" one. For once, the station wasn't crowded, but that might be because it was late at night and this is the last train. I decided to watch people while I wait for her.

I first see a kid, barely five years old, clinging to his dad's hand. He looks up at his dad with eyes slightly stained from tears.

"Do you think mom will turn up today at least?" he asks softly.

"I don't know but let's hope," he replies.

The boy isn't happy with the response but it's not like he could do anything about it.

There is another boy too, slightly older than the one before. He has pink pants and is getting his long hair braided by a girl next to him. He looks happy which makes me smile too.

I then see two girls sitting in the far-off corner of the station. They huddled over one's phone with their hands intertwined while they were listening to something. They look cute together. Almost like a couple.

Right, when I am thinking of couples a song starts playing through the speakers in which announcements are being made. It was So My Darling by Rachel Chinouri. I could recognize the song from anywhere, it was special to me. But I don't have time to reminisce about it because by then a woman probably in her early 30s bends on one knee and proposes to another woman. The other woman is beautiful but so is the entire scene. She tears up and I think I do too. But I couldn't get to see her saying yes because by then my favourite person turns up with an apologetic smile. I beam at the sight and greet her. She starts telling me how there was an accident on the way and goes into detail about how that's the reason she's late while I shake my head and listen.

However she is interrupted by the train coming in, we get in and everyone I noticed in the station walks in too. The woman who proposed comes along with her now-fiancee who had a shiny ring. This made me fidget with my ring, both our rings looked kind of similar.

The person next to me continues to tell her story until we reach our station. We then walk out and into the restaurant that we both have been going to since we were kids. I place my order with the waiter and he leaves after writing mine down. I ask him to wait to note down her order too, he looks confused but stays nevertheless. Then she tells him her order but he doesn't write it down. He just stares at her blankly so I repeat her order to him. She has a thick northern accent so I wouldn't blame him if he doesn’t understand her. He takes it down this time and leaves.

I look back at her and she smiles at me, a familiar warmth spreads in my cheeks as I smile back too. She finally tells me the end of her story.

"Then I looked at the boy in front of me and Adriana, you wouldn't believe me but she looked exactly like how you did as a kid. I of course jumped in to save him. But I couldn't save myself" she concludes.

My smile falls and my heart stops.

"What- what do you mean you couldn't save yourself?"

"I died." She keeps her eyes on me to gauge my reaction.

"No, you're sitting right in front of me," I whisper and touch her hand for assurance.

"I died five years ago Adriana, I died the night you were going to propose to me."

"No, that can't be true. You can't be dead. You're not dead. Stop joking." I respond firmly.

"Love, look around. Who are those people you see?" She questions me.

I turn to look around and what she's stating. Everyone I saw in the station and on the train are there in the restaurant, walking in one by one. They all sit down and look up at me. The emotions on their faces vary. The five-year-old boy is sad, the ten-year one with the braids looks like he is searching for something, the teenage girl looks like she has finally found what she was looking for, and the woman who proposed looks like she was the happiest she's ever been.

It eventually hits me. The boy. The boy is Adrian. Adrian who was sad because his mom left him. Adrian who grew up never feeling comfortable in his skin. Adrian who liked to dress up and have his hair braided. Adrian who was figuring himself out. Adrian who chose to be Adriana when she went to high school. Adriana who loved her best friend and wanted to marry her. Adriana who was going to propose to her best friend on August 8th in a metro station where they first met as kids. Adriana who lost her best friend in an accident the same day. Adriana who wears the ring and comes to the restaurant every year on August 8th.

"Why are you here then? How am I able to see and hear you? Did I also somehow die?" My humour is as dry as my laugh.

"You're the one who should answer that question. Why are you currently having this conversation with me." She replies wittily.

I think I'm mad? I'm mad at her for dying on the day I was going to propose to her. Mad at the universe for making me miserable on the day that should have been the best day of my life. Mad at God, if there is one, for taking away the person I loved more than myself. Mad at myself for not being in a position to save her that day.

"I'm mad," I tell without any further explanation.

"At?"

"Well at everyone and everything but at you mostly. If you didn't try being heroic that day, we would be married. We would be sitting here having our dinner as we've always done since we were kids. If you didn't save a kid who looked like me, you would be alive. But more importantly, I would still have you in my life." I elaborate this time.

She sighs. "Do you think you'd ever forgive me for that? Do you think maybe that's why I'm here right now?"

"No"

"No?" she repeats apprehensively.

"No, I can't forgive you for taking the one thing I ever depended on away from me. I can't- " I could sense tears of anger roll down my face.

"I can't forgive you for making me regret living, breathing, and existing without you in this world." I finish and wipe off my tears.

I didn't cry then, I can't cry now. I don't cry. The universe will be satisfied if I cry. I can't do that.

She smiles with empathy and raises an eyebrow at my action. "Can't give the universe the satisfaction of making you cry, right?"

I give a feeble nod in response.

"You know, I understand that you're telling me that you won't forgive me through your words. But somewhere in you, subconsciously maybe, I think you want to move on. Move on from being angry. You hold so much anger in you. Your anger is nothing but self-sabotaging. You stopped believing, you stopped hoping." She paused.

"You stopped living. All because you're angry at me, at God, and the world. I can sit here and give you the longest and most heartfelt apology anyone could come up with. But that won't matter if you don't forgive yourself and let go of all this. There could be a million possibilities. A million what-ifs. But this is what happened and it's time you come to terms with that and start healthily processing all this. My death should not be the end of your life. Remember I will always love you. And maybe in another lifetime we would have gotten married and lived in NYC with two cats." She smiles and I swear I could sense my traitor lips forming into one too.

I can't think of anything to tell her. I want to tell her a lot. I know I always thought of telling her a lot of things whenever I couldn't sleep at night. I even wrote it down in my notes just in case something like this ever were to happen so I could read from that. But now actually being here I can't even open my phone to go to the app. All I could do was look at her.

"I love you," I said. Weakly. I just told her I'm mad at her and she was unforgivable but all my mouth could utter to her right now was those three words. Those were the words I wished that she heard before she left me permanently.

She smiled wide. "I hope you forgive me soon"

I bend to wipe the slightly new-formed tears away and when I look back she isn't there anymore. I turn to look at the other versions of myself who previously occupied the restaurant but they aren't there either.

The waiter comes back with the food. I almost forgot that we even ordered. He places one in front of me and the other opposite to me. I push aside my plate of gourmet burgers and pull her plate of pancakes in front of me. She started having pancakes for dinner as a joke but she got so used to it, she hated having anything else.

"Maybe in another lifetime," I repeat her words and take my first bite of her favourite food.

By Sowmithaa Shri S