The Secrets to New York

Twenty | Strangers

I was surprised that the rest of your family didn’t come to thanksgiving that year, and I couldn’t help but wonder if that’s how it had been since the accident. That would be a lonely way to spend the holidays.

I was left sitting there at the table with you and your mom. An awkward silence took control of the room, the only times anyone would talk would be when your mom would ask either one of us a question to bring some life into the silent room.

So Emery, where are you working now? She knew the answer to that, she just wanted us to start a conversation.

Margie’s Diner. I answered quietly, picking at my dinner. Your eyes shot up from the plate that you had been focusing so hard on. I wanted to laugh at the look on your face, but I thought better of it and stopped myself.

Margie’s? you asked, such a serious look on your face. A concerned look, really. Why?

Uh, I just… I faded off. I didn’t know how to answer that. I don’t even know why I got a job there. It was one of my dumb moments really. You stared at me for a few moments before you decided to let it go. (I guess you realized I wasn’t going to give you an articulate answer).

It was in that moment that I realized what we were now. We were strangers.

Three years had shaped us and molded us into the people we were today, and it completely and totally sucked.

I fought back the tears throughout the rest of dinner, and silently excused myself to the restroom when I had finished.

I could hear your mom scolding you for not trying to converse with me more.

I sat down on the bathroom floor, the memories flooding over me like a tidal wave of sadness, and I began to fall apart.