Her confession

Here is the question. What was it, really? A conection that was meant to be? Or something that could never be? But first we need a little perspective. And a little context.

This is a story about two people. A girl and a boy. Perhaps a little clichéd, but that's how most stories go anyway. Both fictional and real. 

Girl meets boy, but only twice in her life. A handsome man, she thinks at first. Charming, compassionate, talks well . . . but not enough to make her heart flutter just yet. They share a few words but that's all. Nothing that'd keep one up every night. The meeting is over. She doesn't expect to see him again. She forgets his existence for just a while. 

But they do meet. This time, the meeting lasts longer. Of course there are other people involved. It is a gathering, a kind of social event. She meets with other people, although she does notice him. They share even fewer words than last time. But she knew that even he acknowledged her presence.  

Months pass by. The gathering is long over. They have a few mutual acquaintances, nothing more. No reason to meet again. No reason to talk or chat on Facebook, or send a tweet on twitter. No reason to remember each other. It is almost how we pass strangers during a journey. A moment's notice, a momentary acknowledgement soon to be replaced by a non chalant agreement of a final goodbye. This was it. 

Of course now in the era of social network you cannot always lose a presence even if you lose touch. She sees the occasional posts and tweets. There are the occasional likes on some funny memes posted by the other. But still not reason enough to connect. 

A year passes by. She had forgotten his existence a long time back, but this night was different. And it all started with a dream. She didn't remember the dream at first . . . But it had something to do with this person she had met a long, long time back. Handsome face,  a witty way of talking . . . narrow glasses perched up on a straight nose and high cheekbones. Strange, she hadn't thought of him in awhile. And even stranger was the dream. What was it about? Was it someone's life in danger? She had an inkling that it was this person's life that was in danger. She wanted to save him! From something. She didn't remember what. She only got flashes of light. She really didn't want him to die and so she did all she could to save him . . . To warn him. 

She woke up abruptly. What a dream, she thought. She switched on her phone and logged on to her Facebook and searched a name. It was a hard time remembering.  The question was, why tonight? She typed in a name and a surname, after remembering a little. The account popped up. The display pic had the same glasses and the cheekbones. It was a happy face. He had his arm around some friend . . . Strange, why should she dream of him tonight?

The next few days went on. She felt normal, she did her daily chores and assignments. But the question still burned. She couldn't remove that face. She couldn't place it under some logical explanation as to her sudden obsession.  

Months pass by. At first she thinks that perhaps this was love . . . The kind to happen at first sight. Except it was a sight in a dream. And what a strange love. She had met the person twice without any connection to begin with, and yet today he was growing in her mind like cancer. She became more aware of his presence on social network, the only place she could ever meet him. There were the occasional posts from his accounts. But she wanted more. She wanted to talk! To understand why a person she barely knew was taking hold of her mind!

More months pass by. It wasn't love. She was sure of it. It was some morbid curiosity perhaps. Definitely a strange infatuation. Infatuations pass by with time. Memories fade with time. So do feelings. 

But the strangeness remained in her Infatuation which only grew stronger. There were barely any posts from his account in many a month now. She was ashamed to admit to herself that she had noticed. It was almost stalker-like, but no she never stalked him for the say are f her own sanity. She wasn't that bygone or desperate yet. But it was difficult to control the urges. 

And then one day, she gets a message on Facebook.  Some link to an event. Publicity. But the sender obviously is someone she had not expected. It was one of those chain mail things. Of course she wasn't any special. But still her heart fluttered. 

She immediately clicked the link and put a thumbs up on the event. Time goes on . . . 

It has been two years now. They have had more words. On a few occasions. Birthdays. Congratulations over events or whatsoever . . . Very occasional words not lasting more than two sentences. It tormented her. No it wasn't love. She never once believed that anything could possibly happen in between her and this supposed stranger. She had narrowed it down to a weird fascination,  or fancy, however you may want to put it. It had lasted this long, almost four years now! And it had only grown stronger! 

To the point that she couldn't take this pretense of mere shallow acquaintanceship any more. When there was something weighing in her heart about this person, how could she just act like he didn't hold a place in there? Why was it so at all? She had only met him twice, for god's sake? Why was she so obsessed with him? 

And every time they shared some words, she always took it to be the last time they communicated in their lifetime. 

But then again he sent something just to remind her of a hopelessness that she has housed for so long. Just when she thinks that she has successfully moved on, forgotten him for good, there it came . . . To shatter the illusion. 

So much that one day successfully she vowed. If 'that' wasn't the last time that they had shared the final word and if he ever texts her again, she will confess. 

Months pass by. Maybe another year too. It is her birthday. She is happy. She had a nice party thrown for her. Her friends celebrated with her. She even thought she had found new love. Or a crush on this new guy after a very long time. For the first time, she felt like she was moving on. She turned her phone to respond to the wishes on her Facebook. 

And there it was. 

"Happy Birthday!" It said. 

Her feet got cold. The memories came running. It has been a year since they had a word. It had certainly been tough to forget. And just when she was moving on . . . It all came back in a split second, just by reading the sender's name. She remembered her vow . . . 

"Thank you!" She typed in with trembling fingers, "Hope you are doing well! :D" 

It was thankfully very easy to hide emotions over the Internet.  Such a cheery, jaunty response. 

"I'm well. How are ya?"

"Good! Good to catch up"

She stops. Breathes. No she can't take this. This won't do. She has to keep her word to herself. There was no other way. 

"I have a confession to make. Nothing weird, really. Just made a promise to a friend to do so tonight. Would you like to hear it?"

SEND 

She waits anxiously. She regrets sending it almost immediately. The confession was nothing less than that of a Facebook stalker's. Or a crazy obsessed woman. Gosh! What will he think of her? It was weird as it was just telling him that she had something to confess . . . She wished she could take it back! She panics. 

"Listen forget it. Do not take it in a weird way :P thanks for the wish! I'll catch you later, bye!" 

Sends. And she stows her phone away. 

Not mere five minutes are over and she whisks it out. Of course he was online. But he hasn't replied at all. That upsets her. She stows it away. Minutes pass. It is almost close to an hour. She looks at her phone for the tenth time. 

He is typing . . .

Her heart jumps. Her anxiety increases. Her patience wanes. 

"What do you want to confess?"

She feels like a weight has been thrusted down her throat. Unmercifully. She almost chokes with panic. But this is it. 

This is how it goes and the world ends for her. 

"It is not something big . . . But I have admired you for sometime now. I mean I think I used to fancy you in the past. Just a little. *nervous laughter*

"Just wanted to let you know.  Because it was getting weird for me that we have really met twice and we just have this connection over Facebook.  . . Really. But it is all in the past. I really don't feel that way anymore! I am actually about ask this guy out so. . .

"Thanks for hearing me out! And it is okay you don't have to respond to this! Feels a relief to get it out though . . . But I'd die if you say something on this! So cheerio! :P Take care! Thanks for the wish again!"

She stows her phone away. She didn't want to see the reply. She knew that it would break her heart a little but she felt better already. It was a relief. Of course it hadn't been entirely true. She did more than just fancy him a bit. But no need to scare a stranger over social media. For all she knew he had already blocked her. 

Calm down. Don't be such a pussy. Just check if he has replied or not. It can't be worse. Of course nothing would happen. He has probably sent a thank you. And he was probably feeling good. Who didn't like being confessed to? 

She peeks into her phone, nervously. 

"I am glad. I've been waiting for a long time. Glad that we could finally talk."

Waiting? What did that mean? 

"Okay. . ." She replied. She felt braver all of a sudden. Yes they did break the ice. But there was more . . .

"Actually, there is a confession from my side as well. I guess I was kind of cowering. The thing is that, we've met only twice. And I have always regretted not having made a friend out of you when I got the chance again. And now I have even more reason to regret. But we were never meant to be . . . I suppose." 

"Yes I know." She replies, "It is a little late for that. But I'm surprised that even you felt something. I didn't think it was mutual."

"It was more than just mutual. I also believe that thanks are in order. You were the only one who tried after all."

"Tried what?" 

"To save me. You were there. By some miracle, I don't know. I saw you standing. I saw you trying to call out to me. Warn me about the car . . ."

"What car? What are you talking about?" 

"The night of the crash. The night I died." 

She froze. Was this a prank? Did he think that this was funny? Her confession?  And now he was trying to play her? She felt angry. This was worse than being rejected. 

"Listen mate, I get it that nothing can happen between us. And I told you it was in the past. But you can simply reject my confession by saying a simple thank you rather than this elaborate prank or whatever you trying to pull. You think a person's feelings are a joke?"

No reply for some time. She stows away her phone angrily. Later that night she whisks it out again.

"Believe it or don't.  I am not trying to undermine your feelings. But I guess you haven't really visited my profile, have you? You will see that it is an obituary account now. Anyway, I really wanted to thank you still. Maybe that is why I wasn't able to move on. Because I was stuck in a limbo. Trying to find a way to talk to you. But how? A dead person can't communicate at his will. But he can send a few signs now and then. If it hadn't been for you, I wouldn't have been stuck here for so long trying to grab your attention. I know your feelings are real. Bit strange isn't it? We were practically strangers and yet I haven't felt a connection so strong with someone. Anyway that night, I saw you as I drove on. I saw you by the street warning me about the car which ultimately killed me anyway. But I am thankful, because you tried. 

"I guess this is my cue to leave now. My unfinished business is done. Which was to confess to you I guess. Adios. I still wish that we had been freinds. We would have been thick, I'm sure. Perhaps we would have been more. Perhaps in a later life." 

She stared. She didn't know what to say or what to do. She was in a shock. She visited his profile. Sure enough there were the obituaries, the collages expressing sadness and memories. So many "Rest in peace". 

Why? Why did it have to be like this? Was she sad? Was she going to cry? Was she terrified?

She kept re reading the conversation to the point where she had memorised it.  

She messaged an old acquaintance that night. A very distant acquaintance that she had met that many years back at the event. 

"Is this true?"

"Oh you didn't hear? It happened three years back in 2015. Jan, if i recall. Sad affair. His car got rammed by another. Drunken driver. I think they made the arrests."

"Oh."

She had nothing more to say. 

The next day, she opened up the conversation again. Or at least tried to. There was no trace of it. 

The last thing that he had sent her was on December 2014.  A promotion of some event and an invite. 

PS: I hope you enjoy it as a light read. Even if there are some inconsistencies, let me confess that I conjured this in a matter of 45 minutes. I'll improve it with time but couldn't wait to post it! So read it in the right spirit and forgive the typos. :P it is a little difficult to type it out on your phone with its stupid autocorrect. Comments are welcome!