The Distance between You and Me

//Spatial//

It was just the two of us at that bus stop. You were wearing a navy blue blazer with golden buttons down the front, paired with gleaming dress shoes and khaki pants. In contrast, my boots were tracked with mud, my unkempt hair a frazzled cloud brought into levitation by the drizzling rain. We talked briefly of work and mutual friends before boarding the bus one after the other.

Cramped in the aisle of the moving bus, we stood in an awkward jumble of crisscrossing limbs. My arms, too short to reach the bar above my head, grasped onto the pole behind you. You, nearly a foot taller than I, reached for the bar above our heads. Whenever the bus jolted around the corner, my hand would brush against the fabric of your back, and I could sense you bracing yourself from falling onto me.

The spatial reduction of the distance between you and me closes the temporal gap between us.

//Temporal//

Suddenly, I remember it all. I remember all the things I thought of you two years ago, before I found out you had a girlfriend. I remember finding out that she was still in high school, but that she would be attending our university next year. I remember looking at her Facebook photos, thinking how beautiful and sweet she could look in just a photograph and wondering how she must be in real life. I remember thinking that in a matter of years you two would be married. High school sweethearts to college sweethearts to husband and wife. Every girl's dream.

She and I became friends this year, and it turns out she is just as beautiful and sweet as I imagined.

I see the way you look at each other, her face cupped in your palms as you two sit face to face in the midst of a party in your apartment, oblivious to the noise and chatter around you. I hear the way you treasure her, how you cook dinner for her at least once a week and mix all of her favorite cocktails.

But then I remember other things.

I remember how you and Pike sat down with me at breakfast that one day. I was studying for an organic chemistry test. The two of you had a crack at my misery, teasing me about how much nicer your lives were as Public Policy majors. I laughed lightly, but it wasn't enough to flush out the anxiety bubbling in the pit of my stomach. But when I stood up to leave for the exam, you stood up beside me and raised your arms.

"Hey, you'll be fine. Here - you look like you need a hug."

//Spatial//

When the bus rolls to a halt, we bring our arms back to our sides. I exit the bus before you, and when I turn back around to see you behind me, you nod farewell. I say goodbye and we part ways.