Marley and Me
It seemed as though every little part of Marley deserved all the recognition in the world. The loose pieces of hair that framed her profile to the hazel almonds of eyes that wrinkled at the corners when she smiled. Her head tilted slightly to it’s left in consultation which, as far as I could see, was the single most endearing gesture. She’d laugh, her chest casting forward as she let out a chuckle and half smile. Eyes squinting in adaptation to the round cheeks of hers that displaced them when she laughed. I can’t blame myself for having loved her nearly as much as I did had it not been for her unprecedented nature. She held more clemency in a single finger alone than most of us did in our entirety and it rarely went unnoticed. Marley radiated a unique, indescribable warmth that lifted itself unto others. The kind that brings flutters to my stomach and coats a rosy flush on my cheeks. For all I know, Marley and I could’ve really hit it off if it hadn’t been for my lack of prowess and her lack of interest. I was never one of the few worthy enough to sit with her at lunch and engage in the sorts of conversations I’d dreamt of, though her presence spent me entirely throughout my middle and high school years nevertheless. Where would she sit herself at lunch? Would my luck ever cross our paths? My understanding was like a scrambled puzzle that, despite any efforts to mend, failed to make sense of itself. I settled as a shadow-like figure in the wake of her light; afraid only of my voice. If it hadn’t been for the events that followed, my life very well might’ve assumed the shape I had groomed it to: Duke in the fall, steady career as a doctor, and a family (preferably with Marley) of four if I was granted. But if I’d learned anything from the seven years I spent loving her from afar, Marley was no ordinary girl of seventeen.
As we shuffled our feet across the corridor that made a direct route from the band room to the lockers in the East Quad, my friends and I halted in motion. There she was. Tapping her fingers to the rhythm of an indistinguishable song; head swaying aimlessly, an act rooted in pure whim. She had never been stationed so close to a locker of mine, but this was only the beginning of a great coincidence. Marley’s eyes pursued each figure that passed, each time sinking lower in frustration. I wondered what it’d be like to be the one person she was fixated on; what it’d be like if she thought of me nearly as much as I thought of her. My heart was on a high despite the times it’d been let down. I was under the falsehood that every person was given a miracle. It made sense, of all the people brimming full in our world, you’d have to believe at least one good thing be present in each of our lives. Nothing as colossal as, say, being the president of some far off nation, but something trivial. Someone like Marley. I couldn’t help but believe she was my one miracle, and if anything were to indicate that state of the matter, I was out looking for a sign. She thrust her hand into the air, waving it back in forth in my general direction. I had never first handedly seen eyes so full as hers, and in all honesty, I’m sure mine had that similar severity. By default accumulated through years and years of unmerciful rejection, I thought my eyes deceived me; playing it’s dirty tricks right when consciousness was most necessary. I shook my head in disbelief, hoping to wake myself from this reverie. The words eluded me quicker than I could collect them, “leave... guys leave! this might be my one shot.” Sweat gathered in the center of my palms as I walked towards her figure. Brows furrowing. Heart pounding anxiously. My thoughts were to scattered to collect themselves, and yielded me before I could grab hold of them. A slight smile indicated my presence; sensitive eyes looking up into my own. Though the hustle and bustle of a midday corridor still remained, for all I was concerned, the room was silent all but the faint, “hey” I managed to let out. She placed her fingers gently on my arm in what I took as an effort to calm my nerves. The feeling was marvelous. With the touch of her skin on mine, I was given more reassurance, more love than I had ever exposed myself to. The vessels cracked, streaming light to the parts of me I buried within. I was head over heels for a girl I had never spoken a single word to. There’s something extraordinary in love like that. I lingered on every breath she took, on every word that followed. Her eyes then drained of their color, pierced, and Marley’s character slipped loose of her body. She looked wounded and confused. I should’ve heeded my own advice.
“I think I’ve made a mistake. I’m, I’m sorry… real sorry,” she whispered. Her eyes no longer looking up at mine; dimples no longer assuming shape.
As her shoulder shifted towards the door, feet following in a similar progression, I grabbed hold of her arm. I wouldn’t let this be my last memory of her. I couldn’t even if I tried.
“You can’t do this! You’re beyond this shit show, I’ve known it since, well, forever!” I shouted in utter desperation, allowing the rasp to round out the tone of my voice. I think it’s these moments that the animal within us is illuminated. Prehistoric surges of adrenaline pulse through as we blindly lead ourselves into harm. We are all excellent sheep in this race for love. But years of regret had equipped me for such an occurrence. I clung to the last remaining hope I could muster and spoke, “Or at least just tell me why. Why’d you fail to notice me all those times back in middle school? Why’d you leave me with more voids than I can count?” The entire corridor fell silent and listened in on our conversation. “I was vulnerable, just once, and you… you mistook me for what?”
“ I took you as a coward. I was looking for Mark anyways... not you.” And she stormed off, mumbling under her breath just loud enough for everyone to hear, “God, what a freak.”
There are no means of escaping from a moment in time like this. No possible way to shield yourself from the pain the wells up in the pit of your stomach. Though emotion nearly swallowed me whole and spit me out the other end, I couldn’t bring myself to move an inch if it were life or death. I was frozen in time. A sort of patron saint for young lovers let down in this race. I wish I could’ve known what awaits at the finish line, the kind of love you’re told about in stories and in books. I’ve rid myself of thinking the happy go lucky endings exist. Marley was the single most narcissistic, lost human being to roam the earth. But I spent too many years basking in her glory and looking up at her pedestal to even realize this reality. At my rock bottom, I was a thousand times better than Marley at her best. In retrospect, my writing was the single fire alarm that sounded when I rang it. Rather than recoiling from the very medicine of good love I needed to heal as I had done so many times before, I accepted the loss rather than shutting it out completely. Unlearning pain is nearly impossible. We often belittle and chide the very love our souls yearn for. I came to acknowledge that love was not the source of my pain, though this didn’t magic my wounds away... It was when I stopped searching for love beyond myself, and lifted it within myself, that I found there is no love superior to that between mind and soul. My love for Marley was no work of the cosmos. It was a blessing in disguise, though it felt as far off from a blessing as could be. I used to believe that we all get a miracle and that Marley was undoubtedly one of my own, but as I came to see it over time, I guess she really was. I used to be content coloring within the lines my love had laid out for me, but I no longer am endowed with the feeling that I deserve very little. Hoping this is the precondition for living a life full of love and true love at that. And so, I may never have played out my miracle as I wish I could’ve, but what stemmed from it has amounted to much more than I could’ve ever imagined.
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