I See the Honeybee Cluster.
Soaking up the last that college had to offer me, I went to every frat party at every fraternity, just like I’d done freshman year. I saw all the same people – those who’d abused me, those who’d ignored me, and those who’d partied and danced with me and brought me great joy for four years. While I remember very little about academics, frat parties shine in my memories.
At one particular party, I filled up my red cup and stepped outside, through a window, onto a balcony. (I wish I could remember which frat house had a step-able balcony, but I cannot.) I was thrilled to get away from the hubbub and spend a moment alone in the warm night air.
Mere moments later, The One stepped onto the balcony, too.
He once loved you, I thought. I forgot everything else. Seeing him there, my hopes soared. Could it be that He was still in love with me? Did He want to get together after graduation? Or would we just spend one more night together, talking and laughing like old times?
Being in such close proximity to Him made me nervous, but I was drinking. So I coolly mentioned the stars, pointing out the constellations that He’d taught me during our nights together, kissing, splashing in the lake, staring at the skies.
“I see the Honeybee Cluster,” I said, pointing at the sky. He laughed aloud. (There’s a chance that the Honeybee Cluster isn’t a publicly recognized constellation.)
The One and I chatted as though no time had passed, as though we’d just taken a few weeks apart. In reality it had been two and a half years since our night in the lake. Two years of me obsessing over every move He made, two years of me pining for my Prince, two years of me believing with every fiber of my being that He and I were Meant To Be.
And our conversation proved it all worthwhile. It was like we’d stepped back in time and finally, finally, we were conversing easily and comfortably, together again.
Then there was a rustle behind us – someone else coming out onto the balcony and breaking The Spell.
I turned to see someone climbing through the window, chains smacking on the sill, beer splashing on his boots as he landed on the balcony.
“There ya are, Baby!” Larry gushed.
I almost cried.
One second ago, my life had been perfect again. My future was clear again. My dreams were coming true again. And though I’d forgotten Larry’d ever existed, Mr. Right Now appeared and ruined The Dream.
“How’s it goin’, Man?” Larry asked, genuinely unconcerned. He smiled at The One, all those crooked teeth showing, humiliating me. I wanted to scream Go AWAY! but I couldn’t speak.
The One was a full four inches taller than Larry. He was younger, stronger, smarter, more beautiful and cooler in every way. The One made Larry look like a sick rooster.
But Larry’s appearance zapped the life out of The One. He was no longer looking at stars or having a conversation with me; suddenly The One was a deer caught in headlights.
The love of my life mumbled a greeting and a goodbye in one breath, and high-tailed it off that balcony just as fast as he could get through the window. In his extreme haste, I’m surprised he didn’t just jump over the ledge to the ground below.
Dazed and heartbroken, I crawled inside and went to get another beer. My cup had been empty for awhile and I hadn’t even noticed.