31 Days of Amelia

Day 3: New York Blues

 Day 3.        Where your favorite song is playing in the background.

Arcata has never been my favourite town.

I have absolutely no idea what type of drunken haze I was in when I called you, telling you that I was moving here. And I have no idea what kind of high you were in when you answered.

“Hey! It’s me.” I was smiling. (I never smile on the phone, and I never say “hey.” Ever.)

“Hey, darling.” (You had never said that before. After that conversation, though, you used it daily.)

“I’m moving!”

“Where to?”

“Where you are.” There was a brief pause.

“That’s great.” (I told myself that I could hear the smile in your voice. But, come to think of it, I have no idea what a smile is supposed to sound like.) “I’ll come out and help you pack.”

I hated it at first. I regretted calling you, I regretted selling my apartment in New York, and I regretted getting that amazing job downtown. All of it. But, at one point I wanted it. I grew to tolerate the rain and the constant smell of the sea, and sheer smallness of the place.

Your shoulder bumped mine, and I turned from looking at that grey sea, those grey rain clouds, to look at you. I smiled slightly.

“What?”

“Want to go in there?” You gestured to a small café that was conveniently positioned by the docks.  I shrugged.

“Sure.” You held the door open, like a gentleman, something I had always loved about you. Chivalry isn’t dead. We found a table near the back, just far enough away from other parties, but close enough to the small speakers in the front. Nothing Left to Say / Rocks by Imagine Dragons was playing, and Dan Reynolds’ voice was so perfect right then, that I had to close my eyes for a second.

My age has never made me wise / But I keep pushing on and on and on and on / There's nothing left to say now / I'm giving up, giving up, hey hey, giving up now…

 “Whatcha doing?” You were looking at me, bemused, and I shook my head.

“Nothing.” You nodded absentmindedly, and we were silent until the waiter came and took our orders. By the time the check came though, we were talking, and we both were smiling. Maps by The Fray had come on, and I stopped myself from closing my eyes again, thinking back to how you had reacted.

Wait! They don’t love you like I love you/ Maps… They don’t love you like I love you/ Wait! They don’t love you like I love you…

“Listen…,” you said, quiet, and I looked at you, closer.

“What?”

“Well…” You ran a hand through your hair. “I don’t know how to say this-“

“Just say it.” You looked at me, as if wondering. Wondering what?, I remember thinking. Wondering what?

“I’m moving.” I nodded. “Back to New York.” I nodded again, and stood up, gathering my coat. Maps was still playing, and the sheer irony of it all came crashing down. “Where are you going?” I shrugged.

“Home, probably. You can get the check?” You nodded, shocked. I started to walk away, tucking my scarf inside my coat.

“Wait! Amelia, wait!” I stopped outside the door, but didn’t turn around. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing.”

“Then why did you storm off?” My lips quirked as I shot a glance at the brewing clouds.

“I didn’t; I walked away. And, honestly? I have no idea.” You nodded, still slightly shocked.

 Three days later, you were back on my steps, knocking on my door. When I opened it, I was ready, your old things in my hands. You seemed shocked then, too. I’ve done a lot of shocking things this week, haven’t I, I thought. For some reason, it brought a small smile to my face.

“I’ll miss you. You know that right?” I nodded, leaning against the doorframe. My expression softened some.

“I’ll miss you, too.” We hugged, we kissed, and you waved good bye.