Ingrid Aimee: The Life of an Average “ Weakest Link” - A Short Story

LIFE OF AN AVERAGE

" Weakest Link " - A Short Story -

By: Ingrid Aimee

We were both 16. Angie and I belonged to the same school but never crossed paths until senior high. She had a sparkle in her smile, eyes that beamed with each playful thought that made me melt from the inside out. As love stories goes, we had a "heart on" for each other, ours would be right up there with the best them--I just didn't know it at that time. They say timing is everything, and it seemed our time had to come to an end when the college bell rang. I went on with my life without her. A couple of years by, and while I had my share of experiences away at college, I was very homesick for Angie. Somehow we found ourselves talking on the phone again, eventually every night. Her voice and her wonderful laugh were so comforting. She gave me a sense of calm and a feeling that everything was right with the world. Eventually, we decided to try a long-distance relationship. Not surprisingly, even as strong as our feelings were for each other, it didn't work. Long distance is not the next best thing. Angie and I attempted reconnecting again a couple of years later, but again, we were unsuccessful. After much inner conflict, I came to realization that our relationship wasn't working.The vision of my future didn't mesh with the soul I fell in love with. She felt hurt and stormed away, slamming the book shut on what appeared to be the last chapter in our story. Loving someone and realizing you can't be together is not an easy dilemma. 10 years had passed and I still missed her. Even though I had gotten married to someone else, each time I go back home, I wondered if I would run into Angie. I felt horrible about the way things ended. Call it selfish, but I needed closure. I needed to apologize for hurting her, I needed to see Angie. Until one day, after two decades, we have reconnected again through a social network. And we agreed to meet. Seeing her walk into the coffee shop made my heart race and calmed my nerves all at the same time. She walked over to me and hugged me with such passionate gusto and deep, genuine love. We sat down and talked about what had transpired in our lives over the past 20 years. She was married and was doing fine. We discussed about our breakup. We agreed to occasionally meet as friends, and we did for quite a while at the same coffee shop.We talked and more importantly, she listened. Enter

Being with her was like going home again. When we were together, we were in our own little happy bubble. It felt good to feel happy. After each meeting, I felt like I had taken a deep satisfying breath and life was good. I felt seen and heard. I felt important, understood and deeply loved and adored. Ultimately, and not surprisingly to either of us, reality burst our bubble once again. While our bond was good, we both knew the weak link that caused us to break up was still there. And we needed to concentrate on both our marriages. We decided to occasionally keep in touch by phone. One day, Angie called, her usual upbeat voice sounding flat, and I knew something was wrong. She was calling to tell me she had cancer. Throughout Angie's chemo, I'd visit her in the hospital. She would stroke my face as if to comfort me. One rainy day, we were scheduled to meet for lunch. I arrived at the restaurant and waited and waited, but she didn't show up. I panicked. I called her. and much to my relief, discovered she had fallen asleep. She insisted that she wanted to see me regardless of the weather and asked me to please wait. As sick as she felt, she drove through the rain to meet me. I hadn't seen her in a few weeks, and the difference was devastating. She was thin, gaunt and pasty gray. My heart was breaking. I brought old pictures of us together to show her, thinking it would lift her spirits. She shook her head as she reviewed them, asking "Who is this person? What happened to me?" She looked at me and her once-sparkling eyes were now rife with frustration.We hugged and sat for a long time holding each other tightly. Not long after that visit, I got the call from her mom to come to say goodbye to Angie. I gently caressed her face and she opened her eyes, which were now at peace, filled with love and tears. "Thank you for being such an important part of my life," she said. I told her that I loved her and asked her to give me a sign once she "crossed over" to let me know she was okay. I kissed her on the forehead and said goodbye. For whatever reason, we were not meant to be a couple in this lifetime. Angie has given me many memories which is very comforting. Angie has since given me many signs from beyond letting me know she is with me, and continues to do so, which is very comforting.