Just a Man
It happened at a football game. I love the Seahawks. She loves the Patriots. My team lost, but I went home the happiest guy in the world that day. I thought my clock would zero out after a touchdown or game-changing interception. I spilled my nachos in her lap on the way back to my seat at halftime. The most anticlimactic of zero outs. She knew who I was the minute she saw me. It was obvious that she had been thinking of nothing but this moment ever since her clock turned on. About a year later, I proposed.
It’s been nothing but smooth sailing and happy days ever since.
“Marcus, where have you been?” She asked me calmly. As if it were a line she’d been rehearsing for months.
Okay, so I lied. It hasn’t been smooth sailing. We were great for about four months. And then I drank a little too much and slept with someone else. And then two months later it happened again. And then again. And again. We’ve been engaged for four years. She’s left a billion times. She’s tired. I’m tired.
“You know where I’ve been, Avery.”
She looked at me with disgust. She hates me. I ruined every dream she’s ever had about this part of her life, and yet she stays because a little watch on her wrist that grew in with puberty convinces her that she should. I do love her. And I know she loves me too. I just don’t think it was time for us to meet yet. I was only twenty-two and all of my friends’ clocks were still rolling. My father was completely in love with my mother. They were soulmates, according to the clocks and according to one another. Still, his favorite thing to remind me of was that the clocks count down to when you meet your soulmates, not when you fall in love with them. Maybe Avery and I just moved too fast.
“Marcus, I’m done. I can’t do this anymore.”
“Avery, I was working late.”
“Then why is your wrist taped? Didn’t want your coworkers to see that you zeroed out?”
Damn. I don’t know how I forgot to remove the tape from my clock. I’ll think of something. I always think of something.
“Why aren’t you wearing your ring?” Yeah, that’s good. Turn it around on her.
“You’re a joke, Marcus,” she laughed.
“Oh I’m a joke? This is your fourth time threatening to leave this month alone and I’m the joke? Ha.” It poisons us both. The venom I spit at her. I don’t know why I can’t stop. I hate treating her this way. Seeing her like this.
“You are such an asshole.”
“Well get used to it, soulmate. Oh that’s cute you packed a couple bags.”
“Screw you.”
“No really. You’re adorable. As a matter of fact, you stay. This time I’ll be the one to leave for a few days then come back. I know you get tired of playing that role.”
I went to take her bags from her and there it was. Plain as day. I had never considered it before. That some of us might get more than one chance at love. That we might not have just one soulmate. Her wrist read 09:14:23. It blinked as the seconds counted down. “It restarted last night,” she said. I checked my wrist. There was nothing. Just flesh. She grabbed her bags and headed towards the door. “Goodbye.” She almost seemed sad. Mostly, she looked relieved. And I was alone.