The
Girl Most Likely To Be Unloved
A
time travel short story (rough draft)
The
classified ads at the back of the magazine were absolutely
fascinating, but none so much as what I saw in the July 21, 1922
issue I opened one particularly lonely day late in 2012.
My
darling A., it
began, I know not
where you have gone, but surely it could not have been willingly. The
months since you disappeared have been absolutely agonizing and after
what you said the very last time I saw you I find it so hard to
believe you’re gone forever. You once said where you come from
there is something called ‘missed connections,’ where people can
advertise their pain over loss or missing out on chance meetings.
Here in our town we just have the classifieds so I thought I take a
stab at it. You always lovingly laughed when I called you the cat’s
pajamas, but, my dear, you are and always will be to me. Please,
please return. My love always, C.
How
beautiful and charming and…wait, Missed Connections!? I was reading
the magazine off of my ereading device, but it was reproduced exactly
as it would have been in 1922. As I moved to the next month’s
issue, another ad addressed the same way caught my eye:
My
darling A.,You told me once you loved this magazine and that you read
it from cover to cover, even though most of the time the issues were
very old.It occurred to me that you might not know this is for you
unless I mention specifics without being too specific. The sadness in
your eyes, your conviction you would never ever be loved, that you
felt in your youth you would grow up to be the girl most likely to be
Unloved, all of that pulled me in, made me want to make you happy and
prove how much you could be loved. Your eyes, green as fresh grass,
your hair, so different than any other’s, and your love for books,
music and animals made me want to stay with you always. Wherever you
are, please know how much I care, how much I long to see you again.I
cannot help but believe you would come back if you could. I know I
did not imagine the love that shone in your eyes. Please do not
imagine mine because it’s there and with all my heart it always
will be. Yours Forever and After, C.
I
dropped my ereader, not noticing or caring, two things I’d never do
normally since I valued it more than life sometimes. I had no way of
knowing who the writer was or why I even thought for one second it
could be anything more than just a very very weird coincidence. Even
if I were somehow lucky enough to track down a physical copy of the
magazine, it hadn’t been a current publication since the late 30s.
Who would be around to share old records with me? (Assuming they kept
track of who sent in the ads or even if they had to take names to
publish them?)
I
had to believe it was a coincidence because there was nothing else to
do now was there?
But
apparently Fate (or the Universe) or maybe just C. herself had other
plans. The next day, late morning, I received a package in the mail.
When I opened it and slid out the letter another envelope fell to my
feet. I picked it up, then read the sheet in my hand:
Dear
Alison,
I
don’t know how to explain what is enclosed in this package. To be
quite honest, my family has always thought it the oddest thing to
ever touch our family history, or anyone’s really, but we respected
our great aunt’s wishes and have not opened the enclosed envelope.
We know no more than you do, only that our Great Aunt Celeste
explicitly stated upon her death bed that this letter was to be
delivered to you.It is because she was an amazing woman and someone
you always respected that we abided by her wishes, though how she
could have known about you in 1933, the year she passed away, is the
most bizarre thing ever.
Sincerely,
Maureen
Hill
Hands
trembling, I touched the second evelope as if it were somehow alive
and then I softly slipped my fingers under the edge and pulled the
flap open.
My
darling Alison,
How
much time has been wasted these past ten years. To wonder what had
happened to you for over a decade and then discover the knowledge was
with me, hidden as it was, the whole time breaks my heart. I can only
hope the delay will not affect anything about our future, though
given what I’ve come to think of as your past and my future, I
worry it’s destined to never work out for us.
You
buried a box in the bottom of my treasure chest. I write as if you
will know what that means. I am being so illogical and silly about
all of this so perhaps I should start from the beginning.I do not
want to give you all of the details because in the letter you left
you firmly state not to, so all I can tell you is: In January of 1922
we meet in Baltimore. In Lexington Market.
This,
oddly enough according to you, is both by accident and on purpose.
And there is no doubt when we meet that time stands still. So maybe
it makes sense that it had to be disrupted for us to come into each
other’s lives. You said in the letter that if I wrote you with
something concrete about yourself you would believe me and do your
very best to return for good, to stay with me so we could grow old
together. Please, whatever it takes, come back to me and stay. Your
fidelity, your loyalty and your chastity are just three of the things
I adore about you, but there are three very important things. I would
never laugh at you and how you see love and the world. You are mine
and I yours for as long as we have together and forever after that.
Love, Celeste
