Saw My Old Crush on the Train Last Night

He came in with the crowd and I recognized him instantly. He hadn’t changed much. I quickly turned around afraid he’d see me and remember the girl who had written him that love note all those years ago. And just like that I was 14 again.

We were close friends in eighth grade, sitting next to each other in class, teasing and arguing over important matters like the correct pronunciation of Hobbes’ name. Not the philosopher. The comic strip tiger. I didn’t realize how I felt until after we’d already graduated. “At least we’re going to the same high school,” I thought. Only he never showed.

I held onto the pole with my back towards him hoping he’d stay by the door. But before long, his arm reached around me from behind, grasping the pole inches away from my hand. If I turned around my face would be right in his chest. On and on the train rocked from one station to the next as I replayed those memories in my head.

“Hi, this is Dorkys. I’m a friend of your son’s,” I said through the phone. “Is he around to talk?”
“Hi!” his mom replied. “Actually, he was accepted into a boarding school in Massachusetts so he's not here.”
“Oh…Then could I please have his address? I’d like to write him a letter.”

And so I wrote to him. I wrote about high school and about silly teenage worries and dreams. I asked about his life away from home. Weeks and weeks went by before he finally replied and, oh, how I read that letter over and over.

As luck would have it, a year later during a trip to visit family in Massachusetts, I learned that my cousin was in his class. I decided to send him a quick note with her telling him just how I felt. All day I anxiously waited for his reply. Until it came.

“Bull$#!t.”

Hurt and confused, I wrote him one last time once I got home. “He probably didn’t believe her,” I rationalized. “Or maybe he was embarrassed and caught by surprise.” I explained that what I had written was real. But I never heard back.

Standing there last night, I felt the embarrassment start to creep up again. As soon as a path cleared in the train car I moved away toward another pole. He followed. It’s funny how a city of 8.2 million can suddenly feel so small. As we stood there back-to-back, I wondered where he worked, what he’d done all these years, if he was standing there wondering the same things as me, also unable to call out my name.

But he probably just didn’t really see me.

Twenty minutes later, we reached his stop and he made his way to the door. And just like that I let him quietly step back out of my life.

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