“Keep this locket for me. Some time, sooner or later, I will ask for this back. And when that time comes, that means I am over you.”
Those were the last words she said to me, as she put in my hand, her favorite locket from her grandmother. It was silver and heart-shaped. It’s been ten years.
Maybe I should start from the beginning.
Her name is Evie. She was my college girlfriend. She wasn’t my first love, and maybe not the last, but she was “the one”.
When I first met Evie, she was everything I hated in a girl. She looked like one of those high school airhead cheerleaders: Hot, but with no substance whatsoever, except that of pure, unadulterated bitchiness found only in the overconfident and over-privileged. I pegged her as a party animal, since she looked the part. And if she’s not enough of a nightmare, she’s apparently smart, being a know-it-all in the classes we had together.
Girls like her— eyebrow raisers and lip pursers— make guys like me feel like we’re living in a nightmare They’re the type who we would never have the slightest chance with, even if we’d like them.
Not that there’s the smallest part of me who likes her or anything like that. She’s too irritating for words.
In the middle of our junior year, things changed. They had to, since we got thrown into the same classes, in the same study groups, and we somehow ended up living in the same apartment building off-campus.
Eventually, she became less of a nightmare. Still, I didn’t like her any more than I did before.
That year, a group of friends and I decided to party at the beach on the night before spring break officially started. There, I noticed how bright her eyes sparkled, how genuine her smile was, and how seemingly happy and carefree her outlook on life is.
I noticed as she slipped away from the group, and my eyes followed her to the rock pile away from the beach just before sunset. Even her distant form against the brilliant light looked perfect to me.
Suddenly she is all I can ever think about.
It took a long time, but eventually, I found the guts to ask her out.
And she just raised an eyebrow at me.
“You’re asking me out why?”
I guess even she knew I didn’t particularly like her. But eventually, she conceded.
She did not make it easy for me to take her out either.
Persistence payed off though, and we dated for the rest of the year, and all throughout senior year as well. The guy who swore Evie is a shallow airhead fell in love with her.
Everything in our relationship was simple, and easy. She was everything I did not expect: she was independent, not in anyway clingy, and she does not make a big deal out of everything. We’re actually pretty good together.
Which was why it came to me as a surprise when she asked to sidebar right after graduation.
“I’m breaking up with you.” she said bluntly. Then she softened up. “It’s not that I don’t love you…You know I do. I just don’t see us working out. We have different ideas on what relationships should be like, and mine is different from yours.”
She unclasped the locket that I’ve never seen her without. ”Keep this locket for me. Some time, sooner or later, I will ask for this back. And when that time comes, that means I am over you.”
She turned around and never looked back. Those were the last words that she said to me. I have not seen, nor have I heard from her since.
Until last week, that is. She called to say she would be in town, and she would really like to catch up. And she asked to bring her locket.
I guess, after ten years, she and I, finally, are over.
I sat at the bar an hour early for our “date”. I would not know what to say, since I never really got over her. I still want to know, after all this time, why she broke up with me so suddenly all those years ago.
When she walked in, more beautiful than ever, and sat at the bar next to me, I noticed the big rock on her left hand. She really was over me. For a long time now, it seemed.
We caught up with each other in for awhile, but the bomb had to drop, and she asked for her locket.
I tightened my grip on it. “First, why did we break that way?”
She smiled. Sad, and wistful. “Even back then, I knew that I’m not “the one.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. You are.”
She shook her head, and laughed. “No, I’m not. Because if I was, you would have treated me better.”
I looked at her, startled. “I did not treat you badly, Evie.”
The expression on her face turned to that of slight exasperation. “You treated me okay, Ryan. Okay, but not special. There’s a big difference.”
She kissed me on the cheek. “Be happy for me. Next week, I am going to marry a guy who is even crazier about me than I am about him. And one day, you will meet a woman who will mean the world to you.”
She left, like she did ten years ago, and she did not look back.
The music in the bar suddenly blared. It was a song from years ago.
I will never take for granted true love again…
Right. That song was called “The One That Got Away.”
She’s the one that got away.
Tags: I am Little Miss Writer, Locket, Love, Short Story
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