Back Into Your Arms

As soon as I got to work I checked the roster, but no one new had signed up.
I began class but I was distracted the whole time.
Looking over to the window too often.
Looking for the tall man but to my disbelief he did not show up.
I had no name to work with, no name to look up. I was stuck.

Class ended.
I cleaned up and closed the place.
I decided to walk for a while instead of taking a cab back home. Walking down the busy streets, listening to the noise of the cars, the streetlight illuminating the path.
I sighed and let my mind drift off.
If I had known the man before, it wouldn’t be a surprise.
For the first 3 years after my accident, I always encountered people that knew me before I had lost my memory.
They would always be slightly upset when I did not recognize them. They would try to help me remember them by going on and on about the moments we had once shared, but no matter how hard they tried it never worked. They just left me feeling more empty than I started.
It had already been 10 years since my accident but the memories never did come back.
My 4 years of high school had been lost, erased, stolen from me.
My friends seemed like strangers and most of them went far away to university, so I did not recuperate the relationships we once had.
Not only had I lost my memories but I also had forgotten how to do things I was once good at. Like playing the piano, I used to be so good at it, but after the accident my ability was gone.
I tried relearning it but it never worked out. It was something I had learned during those years in high school and it was going to remain forgotten.
Given I had forgotten my knowledge learned in school, I had to get private tutoring to catch me up again.
Because I had forgotten so many things, I was unable to attend the university I had been accepted to. My life truly was changed with that accident. I sometimes wondered what would have been of me had I not gotten into that accident.
After walking for what seemed like hours, I stopped and looked around. I had walked pretty far into a neighborhood I had never stepped foot in.
The street was known for having a lot of concert venues and you could tell it was one of those nights because it was packed.
People lining up to see their favorite bands. As I walked past the long line, I couldn’t help but look over to the ticket booth to see who was playing. I was unfamiliar with the band. I was so distracted reading the sign that I bumped into a stranger.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t looking” I mumbled quickly embarrassed.
I looked up to make eye contact with the person.

“Oh, don’t worry about it” he said back to me, he smiled.

I nodded shyly and continued walking.
He was looking at me like he knew me.
At that moment I saw another man walking down the street.
Tall, slim, good looking.
He looked up and saw me staring at him.
It was him.
The creepy guy who left me the roses, the guy who ruined my relationship with my boyfriend.
He didn’t even acknowledge me, he was about to walk right past me when I grabbed onto his arm, pulling him back.
He looked at me surprised.

“Can I help you?” he asked.

“You’re the guy who was watching me at my cooking class last Friday right?” I asked, feeling intimidated by him. For some reason, the night made him look different. He radiated this confidence and glow he hadn’t when I had last seen him.
He just stared back at me.

“John, I’m over here” the guy I had bumped into earlier yelled out.
Mystery man looked over.

“John” I said calling his attention back to me.

“What did you call me?” he asked, his eyebrow raised. His face was serious, like that of a statue.
“John, that is your name, isn’t it? Your friend just called you John” I replied, I looked down at my hand still holding onto his arm. I let go.

“Did you leave me those roses? Were they from you?” I demanded.

He was speechless.

“Why did you leave them there for me John, do we know each other?”
His friend walked over and stood by his side now. He smiled at me again.

“What’s his full name?” I asked his friend.

He looked confused.

“Him? This is John O’Callaghan” he replied back. John looked over at him giving him the stare of death. His friend shrugged as if apologizing for not knowing he wasn’t supposed to reveal such thing. Why was this guy being so secretive?

“John O’Callaghan, why did you leave me those roses?” I demanded one more time. He cleared his throat this time.

“Because you’re beautiful. We have to go, it was nice seeing you” he said and grabbed onto his friend’s arm and walked away into the venue.

I was stunned.
Because I’m beautiful?
I couldn’t deny it was flattering, but it wasn’t enough.
I walked over to the ticket booth.

“Do you still have any tickets left for this concert?” I asked the lady sitting inside. She looked bored and tired.

“Not very many left, but I do. Would you like to purchase one?” she asked me, her voice so tired, almost as if she were saying her last words.

“Yes please” I said handing her my card.

“I.D please” she said extending her arm to take my card.
I handed them both to her.

“Enjoy the concert” she said in the most monotone voice I had heard a woman speak.
I smiled and thanked her.
The huge line had already entered. I gave my ticket to the security guard and was allowed inside.
There were more people than I expected and there wasn’t much light.
I was determined to find him.
He was tall for sure.
I looked around, I saw plenty of tall people but they were not him.
I went up to the balcony and looked down on the crowd but he wasn’t anywhere to be found.
I sighed loudly. I was so disappointed.
A girl to my right noticed me.

“Everything okay?” she asked. I shook my head.

“I’m looking for this really tall guy, he’s thin, he’s wearing like a flannel shirt, black skinny jeans…” I described John, hoping maybe she had seen him.

“Oh are you looking for him too? Are you a fan?”

A fan?
“Sure” I replied.

“Yeah, I overheard he was attending this concert, but no he’s not up here for sure…you know I bet he’s probably at the bar but I’m not 21, so I can’t go look for him there”

“We’re talking about John O’ Callaghan, right?” I asked still thinking we were talking about two different people.

“The lead singer of The Maine, yes” she said and giggled.

“Right, I’ll go look at him at the bar. Thank you!” I said even more confused, but grateful for her input. I hadn’t look for him there.

“No problem! Hope you find him!” she said enthusiastically.
I walked downstairs to the back of the venue where the bar was located and sure enough. I spotted a figure that looked a lot like him. They checked my bracelet and let me in.
I walked over to him but with every step I took towards him I felt my confidence fading.
What was I even doing in there?
This time I was the one being the creep.
I watched him from a distance as he took a shot of what looked like whiskey. He massaged his neck with one hand. He looked stressed out.

“I really screwed up this time” John said to his friend.

“You should have just told her from the start” his friend replied. He too taking a shot of liquor. I assumed they were talking about me.

“I wanted to, you know I wanted to” John continued. The bartender ruined it.

“Can I get you something miss?” he asked me. John and his friend looked over.
John almost jumped out of his seat as soon as he realized it was me.
I felt so embarrassed.

“Vodka, these guys will pay for it” I said pointing to John and his friend.
The bartender nodded.

“How do you guys know me?” I asked taking a seat next to where they were sitting.
The bartender handed me my shot of vodka.
I quickly drank it and set it aside.
John looked at me concerned.

“You shouldn’t be drinking alcohol” he said to me. He looked upset.

“Why not?” I asked offended.

“You-” he was beginning to say but I could tell he was debating whether to say it or not.

“You can’t handle alcohol” he said firmly.

“How do you know that?” I demanded.
I began to feel woozy.
I had a low alcohol tolerance and I knew that very well but how did he?

“John O’Callaghan, who are you?” I asked him, getting more upset. The alcohol was kicking in.
He sighed heavily, you could tell he was a bit tipsy himself. Who knows how many glasses of whiskey he had already had before I showed up.

“Look, I already explained it to you. I saw you and thought you were beautiful so I left you those flowers. I thought we would never see each other again so I didn’t bother letting you know who I was. I’m sorry, okay? I’m a player, I do this all the time. Don’t feel too special” he said to me and patted my shoulder and turned away.

I wasn’t convinced, the roses weren’t simple red roses, they were orange, they were special. I looked over to his friend.

“I know your friend is lying, tell me the truth, how does he know me?” I said to John’s friend. He looked nervous.

“Look, John’s crazy, I apologize on his behalf. Just forget about it alright?” he pleaded.

“But I can’t” I said shaking my head. He knew me, they both knew me and nothing hurt more than not knowing who they were.

I remembered the girl had mentioned he was the lead singer of a band.
I grabbed my phone and unlocked it.

“Ok Google, who are The Maine?” I asked.

Their eyes went wide as google described The Maine as an American alternative rock band from Tempe, Arizona, formed in 2007.

“I was born and raised in Tempe.” I said to them crossing my arms.
“I don’t know why you guys are trying so hard to hide your identities from me, I can’t remember you guys anyways so if you guys ever wronged me, I simply don’t remember. All I can say is that it’s pretty rude to show up into someone’s life and not even let them know who you are or how you know them.” I said to them angrily. I had to admit I wanted to cry and I wasn’t even sure why.
I grabbed a piece of paper from my bag and a pen and wrote down my number.

“You might not know this, I lost my memory in 2007. This is my number, call me when your conscience hurts enough for you to tell me who you are and apologize for the confusion you have caused me” I said putting the paper on the chair he was sitting in.
Dizzy and with a headache I walked out.
I waved over a cab and went home.

All alone in my apartment I finally wept.
10 years had passed but the memory loss still caused me problems.
I went over to my closet and pulled out the boxes with all my things from school in them.
Papers and papers, until I found my yearbook.
I had never looked into it much. It only reminded me of the life I had lost but this time I had a name to look for.
John O’Callaghan
I flipped page after page until I found him.
He had gone to high school with me.
I flipped through the rest of the yearbook trying to find something more on him but I found nothing.
I searched and searched through the numerous things I had from high school but nothing mentioned his name.
I then remembered the poem. How could I forget the poem?
I quickly ran to my living room where I had my bookcase.
Grabbed my favorite book and shook it so the note would fall out.
I had treasured that note for so long, wondering who had written it. I looked over at the initials.
J.C. OC
I was confused.
I looked up the band again on google. John’s full name was John Cornelius O’ Callaghan.
I dropped my phone and looked at the poem again, I couldn’t believe it.
It finally made sense. I finally knew who had written the poem.