In her mind, I never existed. She doesn’t just refuse to see me, I am not real to her, and nothing ever happened. The only thing I have to prove to her what we were is a photograph. This photo I’m holding is a picture of her and me sitting on the bench, we are slightly apart, but we both knew we were together. She is on her phone talking to someone, I was in my mind, really in my journal. I have this picture because a man shopping at the gift shop across the street snapped a polaroid just before she left. When she left, I walked over to him and asked him if I could have the picture he took, I had to pay $20 for it. Since that day, that beautiful day sitting next to her, I go back to that bench hoping she will return so I can show her that I am real, that I exist. As soon as the man took the picture she stood up and walked away, not even noticing me or the picture that was taken. We sat there for some time, almost alone, but there were other people in the park, not many though. I grabbed the photo out of my pocket and asked if anyone had seen her. I never even got her name, and that is what upsets me the most. It’s as if we were strangers connected by this specific moment in time, caught by a single photo. The man who took the polaroid said it was almost a mistake that he took that photo. He was looking at the children playing behind us, but instead captured me and the mystery girl. I told him that there’s no such thing as mistakes or accidents because everything happens for a reason.

She is the most beautiful girl I have ever seen, different than most, it didn’t matter what people said to her, about her. She was unbothered by the bullshit, and that’s what I love about her. She was on the phone talking about how she loves it in this city, Oakland was very different from Ohio. I wanted to show her around, I wanted to get to know her. I am determined to find her, but all I have now is this picture. Sometimes I question if she even remembers how we met, does she remember me? My home? The photo? Everything about her is a mystery and I’m not sure why. We never spoke directly, but it feels like we’ve has a bible full of conversation. So much can be said during the silence, which seemed to be her favorite form of communication.

I’ve never felt like this about anyone, and that’s why I know she is the one for me. I can already imagine all the things we’ll do. I want to take her to see a movie, but not just a regular movie, a drive-in movie. I think she would like that because she was talking about how her favorite movie is the Wiz. I want to go back out there today. If she lives here, she must be coming back at some point. I refuse to let the idea of her go. She is already everything and more without even doing anything, I am hopeful. I come down here every day, at the same time, hoping she will see and remember me. I’m not usually the type to follow people, she is also not the type to be followed. I sit out here every day holding this photo, hoping she would recognize it and walk up to me. It still hasn’t happened yet.

At the park bench, where we met, written on the armrest, as if someone was speaking to me, I read the markings “I will see you soon love. I am sorry for leaving. You will soon understand. I love you Benji” I read the words lightheartedly, she does remember, everything. But if that’s true, where is she?

- Takai

4/7/21. (short story, free-write)

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