For The Last Time

By Nilla T.

I shouldn’t be here.

Mina tapped her foot anxiously on the polished wood of the bar floor as more intrusive thoughts flooded her brain. I should go. This was a mistake.

The doors opened at 7 pm, and she was eager at first to be among the flood of people that rushed into this shitty hole-in-the-wall to watch an underground hardcore show that had a line up of five or six different bands, but only one mattered to Mina. As much as she wanted to see them perform, to watch him, and see him again, she was beginning to think heavily about the fact that she did not want him to see her at all.

What’s worse, she asked herself, as she nervously glanced around at other groups of people enjoying themselves as the first few bands played through their songs. Having him see me again after all these years, one last time, or never getting to see him at all for the rest of my life?

It was a tough contest between the two. Mina didn’t even know what she was going to say if he even approached her. As of now her plan was to just see him perform and then do a mad dash out of there, but if he saw her and wanted to talk to her…

Mina’s thoughts were interrupted as her eardrums nearly shattered from the rhythmic beats of the drummer currently under the glaring spotlight. If they were going to show up one by one on stage like that for dramatic effect then she knew he’d show up on stage soon — Mina had listened to their album thousands of times since the band had released it a few months ago — she knew every part of every song as if they ran through her veins.

Her pulse quickened, and she wasn’t sure if the adrenaline was from the loud music or if she was still nervous about him seeing here —

Shit, shit, shit!

He saw her. Mina was sure of it. She met the guitarist’s eye and he smiled at her the way he used to, once upon a time. There was a time she didn’t know him as a guitarist at all but as a classmate who caught her eye in a massive college lecture hall. Biology became her favorite subject that semester.

Since then, Mina and Arlo had a loose friendship that mostly involved learning about each other through sparse text messages sent with three month gaps in between or liking each other’s content on social media. It was through the constant promotion of late-night shows and song releases that Mina even found out about Arlo’s band. It was only recently that he openly talked about his near-constant practicing, which Mina, most likely in a burst of delusion, interpreted as an invite to see him perform live.

Delusional, indeed. And now he’s seen me.

“Hey.”

“Hi,” Mina said quietly, with a soft smile. Hi! Do you remember me from all our late-night talks after class? Also I’ve been in love with you all this time! "How have you been?”

Arlo gestured broadly at the now-packed bar, in which all the tables were tucked away in corners to open up a floorspace for people to dance, or push each other around and call that dancing. “I’ve been great, honestly.”

Cool, do you think about me the way I think about you sometimes? “That’s awesome! I really love the stuff you and your band make, by the way.”

I listen to your songs when it rains, when I’m sad. I listen to them when the sun is bright and burns like hell, and I’m the happiest I’ll ever be. I just listen to them because after all this time, I still want to feel like I can reach you, even when you are leagues away from me, living your own life. Because after all this time I can’t seem to move on.

“Thank you! I really appreciate it. How’s it going with you?”

“I’ve been good,” was all Mina could say. “I’ve mostly been working. Reading and writing when I can.”

“What do you usually write about?”

“Short stories sometimes, but poems usually,” she replied.

“Not too different from writing songs then, I’d say,” Arlo said, the corner of his lips twitching up slightly. That small smirk alone could bring her back to the lecture halls, to the biology labs where they were always paired together.

“Maybe you could write for us,” he joked.

“No, I don’t think it’d actually be anything you could put to music.” Especially not if a handful of them are about you.

“But that’s cool though. So what made you finally decide to come to tonight’s show?”

Because I hate and regret how much I hesitated when we were around each other last time, and I need closure now.

“I got a feeling tonight’s show was going to be really fun,” Mina admitted.

“And were you right?”

“One hundred percent!”

They both snorted out a half-laugh, not unlike they used to before.

A pause between them. They moved a little closer to each other, and then —

“Hey, you!”

And there she was.

Mina’s closure.

Arlo had a girlfriend, of course he had a girlfriend. If all those years ago Mina thought he would have treated her so well, then why wouldn’t he find someone who’d be lucky enough to experience that all the time? It was settled, then. All Arlo and Mina could ever be were friends.

This was a mistake.

Heat flooded to Mina’s cheeks. She felt dizzy. Her stomach felt funny. She felt so, so stupid. Did I really think I had a chance after all this time? Of course he moved on. I’m the one that stayed stuck, drowning in my own yearning.

That is all she had done in the last two years since they parted ways.

Mina had forgotten the number one rule about yearning: it stays that way. That’s all it is, that’s all it’ll ever be; ruminating what it would be like if things had gone differently, if she didn’t hesitate so much.

I had my chance with you, but now my time’s up, and there’s no turning the clock back. It’s time to let you go.

“Hey, are you good?” Arlo asked. His girlfriend stood next to him, mirroring his look of concern.

“Yeah, I think I’ll be alright,” Mina answered, trying to ignore the creeping sting in the corners of her eyes. “It’s just late. I think I’ll head out.”

“Let me walk you out,” Arlo offered.

All she could do was nod, and together, for the last time, they made their way out into the cold, dark night.

“Thanks for coming tonight.”

Mina almost didn’t register that he was speaking to her. “Uh, yeah. You’re welcome,” she mumbled.

What now?

Do we even stay friends?

When will the hurting stop? When can I speak to you again and not hope for something more with every kind word you tell me?

Only time would tell, of course.

“Where are you headed?” Arlo asked.

Mina shrugged. “Just home, I suppose.”

“I’ll see you around?”

It’d be better for me if you didn’t. “Maybe. Your next show perhaps, or who knows?” Mina tried to sound light-hearted. Only time would tell.

“Goodnight,” Mina said, waving at Arlo as she took her first few steps away from him.

His goodbyes didn’t even change. He flashed her a little peace sign and a small smile. “See you later.”

No, you won’t. And that’s okay.