Dreams of Someone

Ryan Reid

Business today was barely holding in my small restaurant. The number of customers began to dwindle off about halfway through my shift, and I found myself fading in and out of thought. Little flickers of ideas were just bouncing around in my head: thoughts of service, random quotes I'd heard, the people coming and going; in and out, Sam and me moving in.

I had to distract myself. If I even thought about what I was doing this afternoon, I would get too anxious. Too worried. Too nervous. Too scared. Would I run? I don't know.

I tried to shake off my thoughts, but they kept piercing me in the back of my mind. Will you abandon her? Will you really run away from another relationship? Will you leave her like you left Rachel?

Oh, Rachel. I could only imagine now how she might have felt when I turned her down; when I left her because I couldn't face the commitment. When I went to tell Sam my decision, I knew I was putting myself out there. I actually almost turned around when I got to the long dirt road that led to her house.

But the joy I felt when I realized she wanted me to move in with her; seeing her smile at the idea... I sighed inwardly. Rachel must have felt destroyed. But I couldn't face losing her if we got that close. It would have been too hard to face. I shut my eyes. No, I thought to myself. Stop it. Stop your thoughts right there.

Yes, I loved Rachel. Loved. That's the defining factor. But I've moved on from that... I have Sam now. She wouldn't leave me. She loves me. Yes, she loves me. She's my rock; my anchor; she keeps me on the ground where I need to be.

I've always wondered why she was so obsessed with stupid time. All it does is change what doesn't need to be changed; takes what shouldn't be taken; ruins what was once beautiful. But Sam... it seemed like the longer she observed it, the less it affected her. She's always been the same. And I love her for that. I know she will always be there for me to hold on to.

---

I looked around my apartment, but didn't really feel anything. No regret, nor sadness, but no particular happiness about leaving either. It was never a home, even if I dressed it up to look like one. With sports pennants on the walls and pizza boxes shoved carelessly under my bed, you'd think I'd spend all my time here.

But look closely and you'll see. You'll see no pictures, no memories, no true furniture besides a fold-up chair and a table in the kitchen...

It was empty.

All I needed were two cardboard boxes and ten trash bags to finish packing: the boxes for my clothes and the bags for everything else. It surprised me at how much I really didn't need or want. Nothing I owned was permanent. Which is why I knew Sam and I were. I don't own her. I just need her to hold me down to reality.

And it's why Rachel and I fell apart, I think. She gave everything she had to me, and I couldn't take it. I was floating free with a loose tether, and the slightest pressure snapped it in half.

---

After dumping the trash in the dumpster, I drove eagerly towards Sam's house. Five miles left... three... one... I pulled into her driveway, feeling every bump through the horrible suspension in my beat up blue jeep.

Once my restaurant business sky-rockets I'll sell this and get a nice Mustang with real... I stopped mid-thought, unable to comprehend what I was seeing.

I pulled up in front of the large Victorian-era house and put car into park and rubbed my eyes. Still there. I closed my eyes and shook my head. I opened them slightly... she's still there. I staggered out of my car, towards the petite girl, her beautiful blond hair shining from the sun's rays. She smiled at me with sad eyes. "Hello, Ryan."

Awkward silence. "Uh... umm... wha... I... you... Rachel?" I managed to stutter. I still couldn't believe it was her. Not after two years. And how did she know where Sam lived?

She chuckled sardonically. "Yeah, it's me," Rachel said, "And I can see your communicating skills haven't improved." I smiled slightly and took a deep breath to calm myself down.

"I don't mean to be blunt," I began, "But why are you here?" I could see her visibly wince, and I regretted what I said the moment it happened.

'I'm sorry. I know this is sudden," Rachel murmured, quieter than before, "but I have something to tell you. Something you need to know." I looked at her questioningly. Why is she here? "It's about Sam."

I stood rigid. Oh, God. She knows. She knows about me and Sam. I gulped. "What's wrong?" I searched for signs of anger on her face, but found none. But something else... sadness? Or pity?

"Well," Rachel said, her eyes glued to the ground, "I came home today and found your girlfriend at my boyfriend's house. Don't worry, they were just talking." She said hurriedly when she saw my face.

"But... they know each other. They were seeing each other before us. I know, go figure. Anyway, they were talking and she said... she wanted..." Rachel cut herself off, and I could see the tears beginning to form in her eyes. This is too familiar. Too much like the last time I saw her.

"Rachel," I said in an even voice, "what happened?"

She took a shaky breath and looked up at me with pleading eyes. "Don't hate me for telling you this."

"Why would I...?"

"Just promise."

The intensity in her tone took me off guard. "Okay... I promise I will not hate you, Rachel. No matter what comes out of your mouth."

I saw her relax a bit and she took another deep breath. "Sam was at Jason... um... my boyfriend's house because... I'm sorry... she wanted him back. She was asking him to take her back. And... and... he did."

She turned away, but not before I could see the tears begin to flow from her beautiful blue eyes, down her delicate features. But I didn't care. I was floating again. My rock was shattered.

"Sam, no," I mumbled incomprehensibly, "No, don't leave me. Not now. Please no..." I felt a lump forming in my throat, but couldn't let myself cry. Why can't I cry? Why can't I mourn for the one I've lost? Maybe, I thought, Maybe we weren't meant to be...

I felt my eyes linger on Rachel, and I felt my heart lurch towards her. We could be happy together. we could. I know we could.

"Rachel, I love you." I blurted. I couldn't stop myself.

I could see her tense. She turned slowly to face me again. Her gorgeous blue eyes were red and puffy from crying. "You... what?"

I took a breath to steady myself. "This is all meant to be. We're meant for each other. I lost Sam and you lost this Jason guy... but it all brought us back here. To each other. I missed you, Rachel. And I need you back."

Was that last part fabricated? I didn't really think about it then but I believe that there was always something... something begging me to go back to her... to my angel.

I could see it in her eyes, she wanted me, too. Rachel wanted to come and fall into my arms and love me and be mine. She wanted to belong to me again. Rachel opened her mouth and I began to smile, for I knew what she would say. "Ryan," she started, her voice hiccuping, "I love you... but no."

I stood there, my mouth agape. "What? Why?" My voice was shaking.

Rachel stood tall and straight, like the lawyer she was. "I'm not your rebound. And you're not going to push me around to do whatever you want to do anymore. You don't love me. You love who I used to be. But I'm different now... So maybe I still love you, but I'm not going to trust you and have you barely meet halfway. I'm through with you."

"Rachel... come on you know it's not like that. I'll commit. Honestly. I will." I looked at her eyes, once warm and comforting, but now only cold and hard.

"You should have said that when I asked you to move in with me." I winced. But I took the blow.

"Yes, I should have. But..."

Rachel interrupted me, and yelled. "Stop trying to change what is! Time's passed and now I'm done. We're done."

"But..." I felt myself slowly fading. Was anything worth fighting for?

"Goodbye, Ryan."