Page 36

I Met You Too Soon by asiris

While everyone else is out doing date night, I’ve decided to grab my journal and take a walk on the beach.

This week has been a mixed bag emotionally for me, and most nights, I’ve been far too exhausted to get my journal out.

Which is good, actually. I’m sleeping well again, so that’s a good step in the right direction.

Though this trip has thrown my routine out of whack, I’ve been handling it pretty well. I think it's because my brain has been so distracted by a thousand other things, so my body just goes with whatever is happening.

I take a sip of my favorite tea before I set my beach towel down, throw my shoes to the side, and sit.

The light from the hotel and the moon are all I need to see what I’m writing.

Most of the time, my entries don't make much sense, at least to someone who picks up my journal randomly.

To me, the chaotic scribblings are a direct reflection of what my brain feels like.

I don’t know how long I’m out here journaling, but the moment I feel another presence coming up behind me, I’m barely thinking before I turn around and throw my pen at them.

It knocks against Henry’s chest, falling to the sand with a small thump.

“I think we’ve been here before,” is all he says as he grabs my pen. “Here.”

“Thank you,” I say before I shake the grains off of it, tucking it into my journal as I shut it. My heart starts to race as I realize he’s not leaving. “Do you want to sit?”

He adjusts his bag on his shoulder, and I can’t tell if it's because he’s uncomfortable or if it's something else. “Uhm, sure,” he says, running a hand through his hair.

“I mean, you don’t have to,” I say, stumbling to get the words out.

He stops as he’s almost sitting down. “D-do you not want me to sit?”

“No, you can sit if you want to. I just—” I cut myself off. “I can’t figure out what I’m trying to say.” I laugh myself off as I fiddle with the rings on my fingers.

“I didn't mean to throw you all out of whack,” he says as he makes himself comfortable on the beach towel. “I didn't even know it was you, actually. I came out here to get some fresh air after a small writing session.”

“Oh,” is all I can say. “How was writing?”

He looks surprised at my question. “It was okay, actually. More productive than most of mine lately.”

I want so badly to ask him what that means, but I remain silent as we sit beside one another, listening to the breeze and the waves crashing out in the ocean. I should say something, anything to break this tension between us, but I feel like anything I try to say is going to be the wrong thing.

“Do you ever wonder?”

I look over at him, his eyes still trained on the ocean in front of us, as I think about the question he asked me. I know what he’s asking. He doesn't need to elaborate.

“All the time,” I whisper back to him.

He turns to meet my gaze. “Do you even know what I'm referencing?”

“Of course I do.”

He sighs heavily. “Will I always wonder what happened between us, or do you think someday, we’ll get a second chance?”

I had no idea he was even thinking about another chance with me.

Maybe what I said to him in his room the other night made him think about it, but I don’t think he’s actually serious.

I assume he’s just wondering what it would look like.

I don’t think he’ll ever let it happen. Not after everything I said to him. Not after all I did.

If I was him, I wouldn't give me another chance.

“I don’t think those words belong in the same sentence with my name, especially not after what I said to you.”

He turns to the ocean again. “I’m not sure that’s true.” He must sense my confusion, because he continues. “If the world didn't have or give second chances, all of us would be a lot lonelier. Everyone deserves a second chance, even after fucking up.”

“I mean, unless you killed someone, I’d agree.”

He laughs. “Well, yeah, Amelia. That, we can agree on.”

“Wow, I never thought I’d see the day you agreed with me on something again.”

Another laugh, and then we’re back to silence. This time, it doesn't feel awkward or tense, just familiar. It reminds me of when we used to have study dates, the only sounds between us were either the music I played or our typing on our laptops .

“What do you wonder most about?”

A stray tear falls from my eyes as I think about what we could have been. “I wonder what would have happened if I made a different choice.”

“And what have you found out?”

“A lot of different things, I guess. Mostly, I’ve found out things about myself I don’t think I ever would have had I not been in England.”

I can tell he thinks this conversation has gone too far, because he adjusts his glasses and how he’s sitting. “We don’t have to talk about any of this if it’s too much.”

“No, it’s okay, Henry.” I reach out, my hand brushing his arm, goosebumps traveling all over my skin. I take a deep breath, needing all the air I can get. “I was in a really bad place over there. So bad, I decided to talk to someone about it.”

“Good for you, Amelia.”

“A month into our sessions, I was diagnosed with ADHD.”

He studies my face, and I’m not sure why I’m so fucking nervous but I am.

“That’s not me excusing my behavior or what I did to you at the airport, but it felt good knowing there was a reason behind how I’ve felt my whole life. I sort of spun out over there, but with more sessions and medication, I couldn't believe how much better I felt.”

“Wow,” is all he says.

“Mhm,” is all I can muster.

It could be minutes or hours before one of us speaks again. “I’m really proud of you.”

He says it so quietly, I almost think I misheard him. “What?”

“I’m proud of you. The Amelia I knew in college would have run the opposite direction from a therapist's office. I know that was a big step for you. I can’t imagine what it must have felt like getting the diagnosis. ”

“Part of me was relieved to have a name for it. I had been wrestling my own mind for my entire life. The last year has been a good step in the right direction.”

He smiles at me, one I’ve never seen before. It seems I’ve unlocked a new version of Henry. I try to take a mental picture of this moment, knowing I’m probably not going to get many more of them.

“That’s good, Amelia. Really good.”

“Thanks,” I say, taking another sip of my tea. “You know what I think about a lot?”

“What?”

“That maybe we were just too young back then. Maybe we met a bit too soon.”

He tilts his head at me. “Is that so?”

“Well, young and confused is still the story of my life, but when I think about the girl I used to be, I wish I could tell her so many things I know now.”

He clears his throat. “That’s the good thing about growing up.

” He smiles to himself. “You’re always learning and growing through your experiences.

You never have to know who you are so completely that you can’t change.

You have a lifetime to figure out who you want to be and the life you want to live. ”

I sit with his words for a moment. “Wow, that was beautiful.”

“Thank you.”

“You should be a writer or something.”

He laughs again, the sound music to my ears. “You always did believe I’d make something of myself.”

“Of course I did.” I still do. I still think he’s on his way to fame. The way he writes, the way he explains emotions, God, all of it—he’s talented. Anyone who reads a single page of what he wrote knows that.

“It just sucks that you could have been beside me for all of it like we planned. ”

My eyes fill with tears at the picture coming together in my mind. Henry and I at an apartment that’s ours. Pages of his manuscript all over the bed as he watches me read it. Happiness. Pure happiness floats through my mind at what could have been.

“Henry, I—”

I hear him sniffle as he grabs his bag. “I have to go.” He doesn't even bother dusting the sand off himself before he walks away, getting smaller and smaller as he heads for the hotel.