ENTRY 3: 19/08/24 The Dreaded Horrors of a Teenage Girl: Running Into Him
- A universal experience of the match re-lit
A tale as old as time is equal in infinite age as it is fearsome.
It truly reaches beyond unapparent depths given at face value. I can explain, I promise.
It all started at the age of 16. I read what would grow to become one of my favorite novels of all time: “Normal People” by Sally Rooney.
The thing about her writing is, you either get it or you don’t. She captures human nature in a way that exceeds the page, consisting of complexities in our conversations portraying such shocking realism while maintaining simplicity in presentation. In the referenced piece, we’re shown a complicated relationship of a young couple transitioning from high school to college. The male protagonist tells his female counterpart how’d she’d pretend to not know him if they bumped into each other in college to which she replies:
“I would never pretend to not know you”
Personally, there isn’t a single person I know or have known that would get the satisfaction or dissatisfaction of me pretending to not know them. What this character & I fail to question is…
Would he pretend to not know me?
Honestly, I have no idea. Well- part of me might.
There I was at the corner store. To set the scene: picking up a few things, bare-faced & meant to meet friends for brunch in about 2 hours or so. I was up earlier than usual, and for some reason this exact fact is why timing is everything. As I’m checking out, the store attendant is (no offense) taking fucking forever. Out of pure boredom, I look left towards the entrance of the automatic doors conveniently two meters from me.
This is also the exact moment the world stopped, & I almost died.
There he was. Briskly walking, but of course looking over. Glances exchanged. The woman could sense my change in demeanor. I hesitated thinking, Couldn’t possibly be him. But, I of course know if anything it’s that my capability to engage in poor instinctive impulsivity trumps any ounce of uncertainty so– I ran out.
Eyes frantically searching the streets of stone and faces past.
The only comparison to such a feeling is when you fall in a dream and wake up kicking. Panic and confusion floods your room, lingering until sense returns to you. And as you lie in bed breathless, you realize the only thing that has fallen is you. The bed, the walls, the house– still as can be. Unchanged.
I was left in shock in the middle of the sidewalk for about five minutes afterwards– still as can be. Completely changed.
Stunned and unable to formulate thought, I walked. I walked with steps heavy and distracted by the weight of the unknown. I continued on until I no longer could, slightly shaking and somewhat exhausted. My savior awaited: a park, a bench, and a breeze- the perfect formula for overthinking.
All at once, thoughts resumed.
Had it been him? Same height. Same hair. Same eyes.
What would I have said? That’s actually easy.
It would start with “I never told you this but-”
And ended with…well it doesn’t matter.
I didn’t get to say it.
If it was him, he answered the only question that haunted me.
He pretended not to know me. So what then?
How convenient that must be to not consider what I would do, because, well, I could never pretend to not know you.
Part of me wishes I knew what it must have felt like to not turn your back and keep walking, but I find an even more satisfying feeling in knowing that I could never do that to someone.
Sincerely,
Oli
