Memories of a Past

This story is dedicated to someone who will always have a special place in my heart

I noticed it was already 8 PM and the summer sun had started its descent into the city skyline, the sun reflected off the buildings, creating a prism like effect.

My plan was to end the day in Little Italy and have a quite dinner at a little sidewalk cafe. The stifling heat of the day released itself from the buildings and streets, most of the locals took cover, but the humid mist searched out unsuspecting tourists, drenching their bodies in a sultry sweat.

I love the feel of the warm, wet air drenching my skin, the moistness insinuating itself into my being, like an insatiable lover.

My white gauze dress clung to the curves of my body, the sweat dripping between my breasts. Every rush of warm air sent a shiver up my spine, causing an instant hardening in my nipples. I savored the sensual feelings I was having, knowing that only this city could create my inhibitions.

As I walked down the street my senses seemed to be in a state of hyperawareness, the sights, the smells, the sounds, were exaggerated in my mind. I found a restaurant about halfway down the street and decided to go in and give my over aware mind and body a rest.

The restaurant was scattered with a few patrons here and there, the maitre'd offered me a quite table on the garden patio, which I readily accepted. The patio was empty except for the few busboys cleaning up. I thanked the maitre'd as he held out my chair and handed me a menu. I sat there reading my menu, lingering in the charm of this Italian bistro. Deciding on the gnocchi, I set my menu down and absorbed my surroundings.

The soft glow from the candles and the patio lanterns cast an illuminating light on the vines growing all along the encasing walls. In a comforting way this patio seemed so familiar, as though I had been here before. As I looked more intently around, I was overcome with a strong sense of déjà vu. I had been here before!

My mind went into reverse thru my memories until I found what I had locked away. It had been two years since we last saw or spoke to each other. I hadn't allowed those memories to run freely thru my mind anymore, they had been too painful. Now, sitting here, at the exact same table, they flooded my mind.

I can picture him sitting across from me, the broad shoulders that seemed to protect me, yet there was a vulnerability about him that made me want to protect him. I remember how easily our conversation seemed to flow, neither of us had ever been at a loss for words with each other. There had definitely been a cosmic influence that had brought us together.

As I brought those memories to the surface again, I remember how romantic that night had been. The soft flickering of the candle, good conversation, the cool night air and the sky seemed to be littered with stars all wanting to be noticed. I don't even know if the food is good here, I never bothered to linger in the taste, I was so captivated by him I didn't let anything else intrude on my senses.

I sat with my eyes closed trying to gather up all those memories and lock them away again. As I desperately chased them, I felt the hot sting of the tears cascading down my cheeks. Two years ago I thought I had unleashed all the tears I had for a lifetime over him. He was the one person who truly knew my soul, my thoughts, my moods. He took my soul with him when he left. Nothing last forever, but what we had in that short time, I can now forever live with.

The waiter comes over to take my order as I am getting up to leave. Seeing my despair, he inquires if I am all right and I tell him I am just tired from my long day and the exhausting heat, I need to get back to my hotel. He is a kind, older gentleman with a heavy Italian accent, he escorts me to the door and hails me a taxi.

The taxi screams to a halt in front of me and the waiter opens the door. I thank him for his kindness and press a twenty dollar bill into his hand as I slide into the seat. He politely refuses, but I am ever insistent as I tell the driver my destination. Speeding away from the curb, the driver turns down a dimly lit street. I am thankful for the darkness, for now I can hide in the sanctuary of that darkness.

The driver makes another turn, and we are cast out into the bright lights of Broadway and Time Square. I watch out my window as the blur of people rush by. I pray we get to the hotel soon before my emotions overcome me.

The driver pulls up in front of my hotel, exiting the cab I lean in the window to pay my fare, I turn and walk away without a word. I rush up to my room, wanting nothing more then to crawl into bed and close myself off from my thoughts. With the curtains pulled open, I lie in bed gazing at the magnificent skyline that only NY can provide.

My body is heavy with the memories of him, even in the darkness they light the room. I try not to remember our last conversation, but my subconscious throws the words into my head and they spread like a growing cancer. His words hit me all over again, like a slingshot, quick and painful, but he had every right to be angry with me. It was my fault, I broke something of his, that although could be repaired, there would always be the telltale crack making it very fragile, and always afraid of it being broken again. It wasn't something materialistic, something you could put a dollar amount on, it was something more valuable then that....it was his trust.

I had earned his trust and instead of valuing it, saving it, I was greedy and spent it like it was burning a hole in my pocket. I hated myself for being so impulsive, a trait that I have learned over and over can be both good and bad.

I apologized until my heart ached, praying for things to be the same. Although he accepted my apology, deep down I knew I had dissolved his faith in me.

I gave him his space, hoping he would realize the lengths I was willing to go to to earn his trust again, but that space seemed to stretch farther then my arms were capable of containing. As strong as that bond between us was, we started to drift apart, our conversations were less frequent, his words strained and tense. Untrue to my nature, I let him go without a fight.

Realizing it or not, I stopped emailing him, he stopped IMing me, it seemed by mutual agreement without words, we were letting each other slip away peacefully. It was almost like a death after a long illness, sad that it was ending but also a sort of relief. I resisted the urge to email him and tell him how much I missed him, and how much I wanted us to have a second chance, maybe it was my stubbornness or my pride, but I told myself if he really wanted to talk to me, he would have done so by now.

I cried and cried hoping to cleanse my body and mind of every touch, every word that was so deeply imbedded in my soul. When I thought I couldn't cry anymore, and the memories had been washed away with the tears, there was still some lingering memory that clung to the hope inside me. I closed my eyes and prayed for sleep, but my mind decided to be cruel and taunt me with what could have been.

I awoke the next morning feeling like a freight train had run thru my head, it pounded as if trying to knock some sense into me. I ordered coffee from room service and tried to plan my day. I decided on spending the day touring some museums, subconsciously though my mind had already planned out my day, and I knew what I had to do.

I dressed, listening to the battle going on inside my head. The practical side rationalized that to many years had past, he had probably forgotten me, or he wouldn't be interested, but my heart put up a good fight, beating down any uncertainties. For the first time in a long time I finally knew without a doubt what I had to do, something I should have done two yrs ago.

I took out the phone book and looked up the address, I was relieved to see it was still there. From my hotel, I was only 3 blocks away. In the elevator I closed my eyes bringing back the images, the words, I have been so afraid to let in again. Stepping outside the hotel, the air is warm and stiff, not much circulation, the humidity hangs on you like a wet bath towel, but I decide to walk anyway. I walked thru the crowds of people with a determination in my step, and in less time then it took me to decide what to do, I was there.

I stood looking at what was in front of me. My stomach felt like it was a dryer with a pair of tennis shoes in it. The Cyber Cafe was crowded as it always was, mainly students working on papers and a few business men. I was always curious as to why a business man would have to come to a cyber cafe to use the Internet, were they secretly having online relationships, accessing porn sites their wife's had forbidden them to visit, the Internets seedy underworld seemed to attract an array of both men and women. I ordered an ice tea and a muffin and grabbed the last available computer.

I sat down with my thoughts and turned on the computer, the words and images and icons blurred across the screen as I sat there staring at it. The sign-on screen popped up and I hesitated, what was I doing, why was I trying to recapture a part of my past. I sat there as if frozen to my seat, and just as I was getting up from my chair a familiar sound came from the speakers on the bookshelves next to me. I listened, stunned by what was playing. It was that song, that Partridge Family song, maybe it was my sign. With trembling fingers I signed on and typed out my email.

I kept it short and sweet, I didn't want to over do it and seem to anxious. I left my hotel # and my cell # and expressed an interest in maybe talking over coffee or a cappuccino, and left it at that. The next move would have to come from him. I didn't want to get my hopes up and I didn't want to find myself chasing down some fantasy that had long ago died.

I had a hard time concentrating that afternoon, my heart jumped every time I heard a cell phone ring around me. The day seemed to drag and I was on edge which didn't help. I stopped at the Cyber Cafe on my way back to my hotel to check my email.

I rushed to sign on, having to reenter my password 3 Xs, frustrating me even more. "You have mail" my favorite 3 word phrase. I opened my mail box, scanning the mail for his email address, but it wasn't there, I looked again more carefully this time, it still wasn't there. I slumped down in my chair, I checked to see if he had read it, he had.

My answer was as plain as the computer screen, I had gotten my hopes up without even realizing it. I checked my mail one last time, maybe it had been delayed or something, I don't know why I was doing that to myself. I sighed as I felt the tears threatening to spill over, I signed off, paid my bill, and resigned myself to the reality....he wasn't interested.

I walked back to my hotel, unaware of the people and sounds and sights around me, I wasn't even sure how I made it back. I was swimming in the deep end of my mind, looking for the ladder to pull me out. I walked into my room and threw myself down on the bed, letting the emotions and stress of the day grip me and force me back to reality. What I thought was long ago over with I realized was only hiding in the deep recesses of my mind. No amount of crying would ever be able to flush out those memories, they were burned into my soul for eternity.

I laid there and cried until I eventually fell asleep. When I awoke it was dark, I turned over to see the time on the clock, it was 10 PM, I had slept for 2 hrs. As I was turning back over something caught my eye, it was the blinking of the phone, letting me know I had a message waiting for me. I groaned knowing it was my husband calling to find out why I hadn't called, I figured he could wait until morning, I was in no mood to talk to him now. I fell into a restless sleep that night, I had dreams of the cafe and our last conversation, dreams of riding a train together, being on an airplane, nothing made sense.

It was 4 am and I couldn't quite my thoughts. My eyes burned from lack of sleep and all the crying, then there was the incessant blinking of the phone message light reminding me of my life back home. Not particularly in the mood to hear my husbands voice, I called for the message just to stop the damn blinking of that stupid red light.

I listened to the message and hung up the phone. I picked the phone up and replayed the message again, and again. I laid back down in bed as the tears clouded my eyes for the third time in 24 hrs. His voice was like an old comfortable blanket, wrapping itself around me, creating a long ago forgotten warmth in my body. His words seemed relaxed, they weren't strained or awkward, he seemed genuinely happy to hear from me. He said he would be in the city working and would be done around noon and to meet him in the village around 12:30 at Caffe Dante' where we had cappuccinos that first time.

I knew trying to go back to sleep would be pointless so I turned on the TV and tried to gain some interesting topics to talk about, but my excitement was to great to contain and concentrating on anything but my 12:30 meeting was like trying to get a 2 yr. old to sit quietly and watch a 3 hr movie.

The morning dragged by much as I expected it to. I was ready by 11, I dressed casually in a white gauze embroidered skirt, purple silk tank top and sandals, the contrast of the different materials against my skin caused my nerve endings to be more sensitive to stimulation. The slightest breeze rippling across the silk caressed my nipples, causing my sensitive peaks to harden and strain seductively against the thin material.

I decided to take a cab down to the village and walk around to clear my mind before he arrived. It was a beautiful day despite being overcast, the humidity seemed lower then it had the past few days. There was something about the atmosphere that seemed to have an electrical charge to it that kept me acutely aware of my senses.

It was about 12:15 and I started walking over to the cafe, from where I was it took me all of 5 minutes to get there. As I approached, that whole day came back to me, we had made love only a few hours earlier. Afterwards we had lunch near my hotel, then came down to the village to walk around a little. Before heading back uptown we stopped at the same cafe' for cappuccinos. We talked easily, we were never at a loss for conversation. I remember it became windy, and the air had a sudden chill to it, but sitting there talking to him and watching him smile and laugh, gave me a warmth no jacket could ever provide.

I was brought back from my reverie by a tap on the shoulder. Startled by how deep in thought I was, I jumped at the sound of my name. His voice spoke my name with an intimate familiarity. I stood immobile, afraid to turn around, his voice resonated thru my mind as he said my name again. After what seemed like hours, I turned to face him, he held out his arms to embrace me. I looked up at him, his glasses perched on his head like I remembered, looking into his eyes I felt the calmness and peacefulness I had felt with him years before.

My composure started to slip as I promised myself I would not let him see how vulnerable I was feeling. I returned the hug, it felt so natural, so safe to have the strength of his arms around me. Reluctantly I pulled away and we exchanged greetings, then he lead me to a table on the sidewalk where we could talk.

The memory of sitting in this same cafe with him seemed like it was only yesterday, I can still feel the breeze blowing thru my body. I feel his eyes on me, reading my thoughts, a comfortable intimacy that even two yrs could not shatter. " You're thinking about the last time we were here, aren't you ? " his voice was warm with the same memory and I smiled and said "Yes." He said that he had been also, and as he started to go on the waitress presented herself asking in almost an annoyed tone if we were ready to order, breaking the hypnotic spell.

I shot the waitress an irritated glance for interrupting. Remembering my huge mistake of ordering coffee last time we were here, and not wanting to offend another waitress, I ordered a cappuccino. He glanced at me, giving me a knowing smile and ordered the same.

As we sat there and talked his aura seemed to command such a presence, embracing me and drawing me closer. I told him he looked good, happy, still as handsome as the last time I saw him. He said things had been going well for him, he has been extremely busy, his performance in Ireland had led to a great demand for his talents. I congratulated him and told him I had always been in awe of his talents and dedication and I knew he could achieve whatever he set his mind to. He smiled and thanked me.

I stretched my hand across the table and took his hand in mine. I melted into the warmth and softness of his hand. I had never felt anything as soft and gentle, it caressed me into a sense of longing. I pressed his hand against my cheek, it was filled with strength, gentleness and understanding, it absorbed my pain, my tears as I remembered the intimate touch of his hands on my body. His fingers stroked my cheek in a familiar touch, bringing back the vivid remembrance of how his fingers had stroked my body into unquenchable passion and desire.

Looking at me he pulled his hand away, leaving me with a longing to fill his place in my heart again. I thought to myself if only he could see what I feel, but somehow I knew he could.

We talked and laughed like no time had passed between us, it was almost like a soap opera, no matter how long it has been since you watched it, when you come back you pick up right where you left off. Neither one of us spoke of the reason we drifted apart, we both carried on like it never happened, but it had and I needed to say my peace.

For two yrs. it had eaten away at my conscience, and although he had told me not to make too much of it, I couldn't help to do anything but. His opinion of me mattered more to me then words could describe, I respected him and trusted him but my actions showed I had taken him for granted. I wanted him to know how truly sorry I was.

I started to speak and as if reading my mind again he said "I know what you want to say, but it is in the past where it should stay." I was grateful for his understanding.

I knew the time had come for us to part, unlike our first time we had run out of words and all that we were left with were the memories of a past, and I realized now that that is where they should stay....in the past.

He paid the check, despite my protest of wanting to pay, I left the tip instead. We walked to the corner so he could go his way and I could go mine.

I stood there looking down at the ground, kicking an imaginary stone, afraid if I looked up my eyes would give me away. I struggled once again with my composure, searching for the words that would set my soul free of him, but there were none and I knew that, he knew that.

He took me in his arms for what I knew would be the last time. I closed my eyes, I wanted to drown myself one last time in his essences. We clung to each other, letting that embrace protect us for that brief moment from reality. He leaned down and placed a kiss against my lips, so soft and tender it floated across my breath.

Time was becoming my enemy and I knew he had to leave, I told him to go. He touched my cheek and turned and walked back out of my life, for good this time, I knew. I watched him walk away and my heart ached for the way he had made me feel. He was my soulmate and would always live in my heart, but the reality of it being more faded with each distant footstep he made, and all I was left with was a memory. I stood on the street corner that day crying for my past. I had just been a girl, standing in front of a boy, asking him to love her.