C12
“I don’t hate you. On the contrary, I’m grateful for our time together.”
Lennon’s quiet sobbing came to an abrupt halt and the silence that followed was almost tangible. I could imagine the flicker of hope in his expression. The thought made me unconsciously curve my lips into a small smile.
“But life is a path we each must walk alone. That applies to both of us.”
“You were just a passerby in my life, as I should have been in yours.”
C
Love Does Not Wait Forever
Thank you, Lennon.
But that’s where it ends.
More than half a year later, whispers began circulating within the orchestra where I worked.
One day, a close colleague could not hold back any longer and asked, with veiled concern, if I had brought any trouble with me from my hometown.
“Recently, a man’s been lurking around the orchestra. He said he’s looking for you.”
I was taken aback. I had been living alone. How could I have attracted such attention?
It was not until one evening when I came home early and spotted a familiar figure hovering near my apartment
building, that the pieces clicked into place.
It was Lennon.
He looked older than before. His usual neat appearance was gone, replaced by an untamed beard and
disheveled clothes.
The moment he saw me, he bolted.
After that, I began noticing him everywhere. He never approached, never spoke, only observed from afar.
My colleagues, concerned about what they perceived as a stalker, urged me to take precautions. I could only
smile and reassure them.
If watching from afar brought him some comfort, then it had nothing to do with me.
Lennon continued his quiet vigil until Christmas of the following year.
The orchestra director handed me a resume before leaving get off work and asked if I knew the person. I read it and immediately recognized Lennon’s name and details.
His most recent listed work experience ended abruptly last summer.
“He’s a former colleague. He’s an excellent flutist with plenty of experience.”
The director seemed satisfied with my response, folding the resume and preparing to leave.
“Though, with his questionable character, you wouldn’t want someone like him leading the wind section, would
you?”
I froze momentarily before he narrowed his eyes at me, his expression teasing but probing. “I didn’t take you for someone who’d speak ill of a former colleague, Miss Dawson.”
“I believe in being honest in both my work and my personal life.”
In my honest evaluation, Lennon was not qualified for the job.
Even after that, he continued to linger at the edges of my life, appearing in places just out of sight but never approaching or speaking to me.
Then, one morning, just before my wedding, I was woken by a loud knock at the door.
I rubbed my sleepy eyes and rushed to open the door while holding back my annoyance.
On the doorstep lay a simple greeting card.
Inside, in familiar handwriting, was a single sentence. [I wish you all the best in the future.]
I traced the characters with my fingertips. A small smile tugged at my lips, though I said nothing aloud.
I wish you peace and joy in the future, Lennon.
And for myself, I silently wished the same.
(The End)
