Wednesday, August 17, 2011

Passing me by.

She sat by the window scribbling in her tiny notebook with a pencil. She looked disturbed and deep in thought. Each time I passed her house I saw her in the same position. Day after day, doing the same thing. Scribbling. She always looked upset too. What a whiny head I remember thinking, on most days. She looked up from her notebook nearly always. But our eyes never met. That day, almost on cue, she picked up her head when I was walking past. Her brown eyes were glistening, with tears perhaps. I went on my way, as always.
Seeing her by the window was now a routine for me. One that I liked, for reasons unfathomable. It was not that she was beautiful. It was that expression she adorned every time I saw her. It was a familiar look. Despite what I told myself, I knew that look. It was one that I recognised as my own; a river of varied emotions mixed in some cup that was overflowing into that book. Maybe.
Much to my disappointment, that tearful sighting was the last one I had of her. For nearly a week, she was not by her window. I was worried, like I knew her. She had just probably found better things to do. But that didn't stop my worry bubble. Slowly, steadily, I tried to forget her. Soon, I stopped looking out for her. Eventually, I changed my route to work and I no longer passed her house. I got used to another routine. One that didn't involve a face like hers.
Until one day, I saw her again. But not by her window. She was on a cycle and she looked happy. I recognised her instantly. In fairness it is not easy to forget a face like that. I couldn't refrain from smiling at her. It seemed but natural.To my shock, she smiled back. It was a fleeting, hesitant smile but she smiled back. At that moment, that was all that mattered to me.
That was last time I was to see her. Again. I probably never will see her. But I don't regret it. I don't regret the words we never exchanged. I don't regret the relationship we never had. Sometimes I wish I had gone up to her and said all that I wanted to. But I would have come across as a creepy stalker. I wasn't going to risk ruining that wonderful moment we shared. Yes, I was scared of all the possibilities and all the nothing that could have been. Yet, I will always have that moment; one filled with a strange sense of knowing and comfort. Like we had met before, like we knew each other somehow.
I sit by the window as I write this and I think of her fondly. I am willing to accept that some relationships are not vocal or epic love stories or childhood friendships. Some relationships end as quickly as they begin. But they leave you feeling a special kind of feeling that you associate with them. I now believe that she and I had something in common that brought us together for some abstract frame of time. I don't want to make it something it was never. Our relationship, the one that never existed, was never meant to be after all.
"Sienna.. Come down girl," a voice called out in the background. "Coming ma," I replied. I put my pen in my book, left it by the window and went to help my mom. She was just a visitor, passing me by. Thankfully, she smiled before she walked on by.