Annette, Gone

I felt strange all of a sudden. I couldn't put my finger on it; something was just off. "Maybe I’m coming down with something," I thought to myself. "I feel pressure in my temple, like a headache might be coming on."

Looking around, pondering my place, my solitary position—something was different, something was missing. Or someone.

"Wait!... Where’s Annette!?" I screamed in my mind. The thought just hit my consciousness like a sledgehammer. I was immediately struck by the realisation that I had no clue when last I’d seen her! I never noticed she had left, but I knew she was gone. "Did I miss out on the last time that I saw her? When was the last time I saw her? Will I ever see her?" I wondered.

I was overcome with guilt for the day I always knew would come, but I had imagined I would speak the words first. I never spoke them; the words never came to me. Today, after all these years, I’m still not sure what they are.

"I must remember the last time I saw her," I thought to myself. I felt like it had been a few weeks—too long for a vacation. But really, I had no idea, so I walked up to the counter, looked for a familiar face. I saw someone I knew had worked here for quite some time.

“Does Annette still work here!?” I asked abruptly.

“No, she left last month,” the nameless server replied, startled.

“Where did she go?” I said with haste.

“Who are you?” he asked suspiciously.

I didn't know how to answer that. I mean, who was I to her? Was I anyone in the end?

“It’s not important,” I told him.

I walked back to my seat, grabbed my things, and left.

I’d love to look back and remember the exact moment she left, but I didn't have that; somehow, that was taken from me. I can only remember the day I realized she was gone. It stings a little, knowing I never got to know her better, to tell her what I saw in her. I thought I had all the time in the world, that she'd always just be there. And she was, until she wasn’t.

But this exact moment I will remember for a different reason. On this day, I decided to stop looking back. I was certain she was the reason I needed to leave and never come back. I’d been searching for a reason. It felt right to keep coming back until now, reaching for the ghosts that were creeping into my dreams. But I’ve come to see those ghosts weren't haunting me at all; they were only figments of my regret, homeless regret. They never really held up to scrutiny because they didn't belong to me and would disappear simply by awakening.

Sort of like her.  She was like a vision in my mind, but never belonged to me; she was just visiting inside me, and eventually, she just disappeared altogether.

This was my reason to leave, and I doubted anyone would blink, myself included.

She always had been the center of my experience. She was the first person to catch my eyes when I arrived, swinging, boasting, and posturing. She was the constant, my safe house in the urban wilderness. Just seeing her here every day gave me a sense that I was in the right place.

But it just didn't seem right, now that I knew she was gone. I was wasting time; I wasn't living; I was just hanging on.

Annette was never a forbidden fruit, nor was I haunted by nightmares of her absence. I didn’t write her letters. My heart didn’t ache for her.

She just made me miss her the moment I knew she was gone. And now that I have placed myself in voluntary exile...

I remember: She was the only one who really broke through my disguise.

© 2023-25 Thomas Arthur