Imaginary Archive (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ib_archive) wrote2012-04-17 08:14 pm
ib_archive) wrote2012-04-17 08:14 pm
Entry tags:
[story] girls who marry boys but like girls
author: kay (![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
sightlessmind)
e-mail: kayjaylai [ at ] yahoo dot com
Okay, I'll admit it -- the real reason why I bought it was just because I wanted it.
I tried to justify it. I said that I needed it because my job was archaic enough to still send out our work schedules via e-mail. I said that I was tired of not receiving my work schedule right away, and I often showed up to work at the wrong day and time looking like a fool because of it. I said that my current hunk of plastic masquerading as a cell phone must at least have been partially made out of soap because it kept insisting on flying out of my hands and into the middle of the street. I said that after having my cell clatter to the ground for the umpteenth time, this piece of junk was problematic, laggy, and could barely handle a simple phone call without the battery dying. I said that if I was going to get a new phone, I should just get something good that wouldn't break down on me halfway through my phone contract.
I must have come up with a million excuses to try to fool the world and myself with.
But the real reason why I bought it was just because I wanted it. Everyone had a smartphone these days. I saw them everywhere, subtly advertised to me by the dozens of people I met in my day who couldn't keep their eyes of of their prized possession, as well as on the ridiculous amount of ads projected onto billboards the size of movie screens. On dinner dates, the person sitting across from me would often pull out their smartphone whenever they got bored of me and my feeble attempt at conversation. Although for a while I told myself that people like that weren't worth my time anyway, I couldn't help but feel a little envious of the compact, slick piece of technology they held cradled in their hands. I wanted one for my own, something reliable to turn to when the rest of the world caught me in awkward positions like uncomfortable first dates.
So I bought one. To avoid the overwhelming amount of technological jargon that would inevitably occur the second I walked into a store to make my choice, I decided to scour the internet for it. Luckily, after a few days and nights of research and poking around search engines, I finally found the one.
GALAXY COLUMBA8.11 - $275 (San Francisco)
DATE: 20xx-xx-xx
Reply to: kjpl-09917101@sale.adlist.org
selling olive green columba noachi. generation 8, software update 11 (with extended wifi support).
used, but almost new condition. no scratches or scuffs. comes with charger and usb. no box. locked to galaxy, NOT unlocked. don't know how to jailbreak, sorry. 1 year old, but still under 2 year warranty.
will also include free shipping.
Location: San Francisco
it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests
About a week later, I tore open a box that revealed the sleekest bit of technology I ever had my hands on. It was, as the ad said, an olive green version of the popular Columba Naochi. But it was the most delicate mobile phone I had ever seen, about the size of a chocolate bar and just as thin. In my mind, I worried that it had the same dexterity and would break just as evenly as chocolate too. Luckily, countless amounts of reviews had told me it was much sturdier and dependable than that. The phone's condition was testimony to its quality; it lay amongst the packaging as new as the ones I had seen in stores. I slipped my fingers around its soft corners and admired the purchase in my hand -- until I felt my fingertips brush against a spindly groove on the back of the phone.
So much for no scratches or scuffs, I thought, remorsefully thinking that a smartphone at such a reasonable price was too good to be true.
I flipped it over to inspect it, worried to find a deep scratch too difficult to repair. Instead I found dainty cursive letters carefully pressed into the lower back of the phone's metal casing. It wasn't entirely uncommon to find engravings on smartphones since it left a personalized touch to an otherwise reduplicated product that could be found everywhere, but I hadn't expected to find what I did. The engraving simply read
I never forgot. I will never forget.
To be honest, the first time I saw it I didn't think much of it. I wondered briefly why the seller would have been intent on getting rid of a personalized phone like this in such good condition, but I figured that it was probably just a memory worth getting rid of. Concerned by the morbid undertones of the message, I made a mental note to myself to buy a phone case as soon as possible to cover up the engraving.
The rest of the smartphone, however, was in immaculate condition. After a while, it was actually a bit disturbing since I would have imagined a used smartphone would have had more evidence of its previous owner. None of its software or applications seemed to have any trace of previous use, and I wondered how someone could own a smartphone - with a personalized message - for an entire year without even using it. I spent the rest of the day tinkering with the phone, as anyone would when they find themselves with a shiny new toy in their grasp. By the end of the day my wrists ached from holding the phone stiff and motionless, whereas my fingers ached from moving too much, too rapidly. I was about to put the phone (and my joints) to rest for the day and head to bed before I realized that I had no idea when my work schedule was for the upcoming week.
I fiddled about trying to find the e-mail application when I found the first and only trace of a previous owner on my phone. At the login screen of the mePhone e-mail application was a preset e-mail and password, "remembered" by this phone's memory which was otherwise a blank slate. A faint but persistent curiosity about the mysterious owner who had diligently covered their own tracks made me hesitate to consider invading someone's personal privacy. The more morally conscientious side of me told me it was wrong to meddle in other people's affairs, but the less morally right side coincidentally (fatefully?) let my finger slip and log in to see the contents of the previous recipient's inbox.
The account was almost completely empty - no sent mail, no trash, not even spam - except for the fact that there were hundreds of e-mails in the inbox. Strangely, they all were addressed from one and only one person.
To: Emma
From: Maylene
Subject: I'm sorry
Hi,
I know I'm the last person you want to hear from right now. I'm sure that your life must be amazing lately and I'm just ruining it all by writing this... if you even read this, anyway. I don't know if you even check this e-mail account anymore. I guess if you don't, I'm at least letting this out instead of letting it bottle up inside of me...
I can't keep pretending that I'm okay. It's been so long and yet I'm still having so much trouble getting over you. I just can't seem to let this go. I want to see you and tell you how much I can't stop thinking about you, but I know that I would just mess everything up even more than I already have.
What happened to us? I feel like we had something so perfect, so good, and suddenly we fell apart before we had the chance to stop it. I don't understand why you left. I feel like I'm barely even alive anymore... My body just seems like it's on auto-pilot and my mind keeps replaying the memories of us over and over again until I can barely sleep.
I'm sorry. I know I'm not doing anything by telling you this. I'm probably just making things worse. I hope your fiancé doesn't get upset with you for getting e-mails from me, I know if I were him I would be...
I just wish things hadn't ended like this. I miss you so much, Em. Don't you realize that? I feel like I'm stuck in the past and you're moving on without me. You have a man in your life now who could do what I never could do for you. I could never marry you. I know that's not the reason why you left me, but sometimes... Sometimes, I just wish I had said yes.
I'm sorry. Everything's coming out wrong and this isn't what I meant to say at all... and yet, this is everything I wish I could've told you before you left me.
Emma... Please, please realize that I am sorry. You do deserve much better, and I'm sure that your new man is wonderful. I really hope you're happy, Emma, not in the insincere way, but in the way that I really hope he makes you happy the way I know I can't. You deserve it.
Maylene
P.S.: I still love you...
There was something about reading that e-mail that touched me in a way I hadn't expected. My heart ached empathetically in an eerily familiar way, and I could feel my heartbeat pounding between my ears. Reading those words reminded me of my last relationship which had abandoned me with the same awful feelings. Samantha had jilted me and left me for Ben -- the fact that they're married now and have a child continues to haunt me even now. I knew what it felt like to be in Maylene's shoes, whoever she was. And in a strange way, it made me smile to think of someone writing real, coherent letters in a time where most people barely had the decency to say hello. It had been so long since I had last seen a letter, and the part of me that was attracted to the old-fashioned romantic notions of communication wholly approved.
But there was more to it than that. How often do you get the chance to peek into the inner workings of another person's relationship? Whenever I asked any of my friends about their relationship, I often received an answer that was unremarkable. It was rare to ever get a glimpse into a woman's mind, let alone the committed woman who gave her heart selflessly to another. I knew few people who had the honesty to express themselves in such a way, including myself.
As the night waned, I felt that I had had enough of meddling around in someone else's business and should head to bed. I promised myself that I would log out and delete the login from my new smartphone and never let myself think about that e-mail again.
--
A week later, I found myself logged in to Emma's account and reading Maylene's e-mails again.
As morally questionable as that makes me sound, I can't really explain why I couldn't stop reading them. I couldn't bring myself to delete Emma's login. The more I tried to put that e-mail of my mind, the more questions I couldn't stop asking myself. There was a part of me that I realized that I could relate to Maylene more than I had ever expected to -- and like her, I wondered, questioned, why Emma had left her. I wanted to know the answer just as much as Maylene did.
The first handful of e-mails were painful, miserable little messages that had probably made the relationship sour between them. Many of them were short, curt, and angry:
To: Emma
From: Maylene
Subject: RE: A little thing called sexual fluidity
Please don't tell me that sexuality is fluid and all that bullshit. Of COURSE I know that, Emma -- I probably said that a million times after I came out to my family. You're just the last person I want to hear that from.
To: Emma
From: Maylene
Subject: RE: My dating life
I'm not TRYING to control your dating life. But you were the one that said -- you were CONVINCED -- that you would never date a man. What the hell, Emma?!
To: Emma
From: Maylene
Subject: No no no no no no no
Katie just told me she saw you at Louise's
She told me you were sitting across the table from a man
You were in that red dress I bought you for Christmas, he was wearing a tie but no jacket
Katie just told me you were on a date at Louise's with a man
A MAN, Emma
YOU WERE ON A DATE WITH A MAN?
I thought you always said you were a lesbian
"Born a lesbian, always a lesbian -- men aren't worth my time"
How could you be dating a man?!
Other e-mails were quiet whispers, messages laced with sadness that were barely covered up.
To: Emma
From: Maylene
Subject: Your stuff
Lauren came by the loft today to pick up your stuff. I think she got most of it, but let me know if I missed anything.
I guess this is real now, isn't it...?
M
To: Emma
From: Maylene
Subject: Don't
You haven't answered your phone in a week.
I can't do this, Emma... please don't. I need you. I don't want to be without you. Stay with me...
To: Emma
From: Maylene
Subject: Please read this
Em, you're not serious about this, are you? Please don't do this.
To: Emma
From: Maylene
Subject: Read this
Pick up your phone. Let's just talk about this.
To: Emma
From: Maylene
Subject: Emma...
Baby, are you still mad at me?
To: Emma
From: Maylene
Subject:
Hey sweetie...
I know you're mad at me, but can we talk about this? Just hear me out.
I don't want to lose you. Please answer your phone soon... I love you too much to let you go.
To: Emma
From: Maylene
Subject: Please listen
You haven't been answering your phone since last night, so I figured I'd try e-mailing you...
Listen to me, sweetie. We've talked about this before -- things have been crazy ever since Prop 8. The magazine's had to cover so many angles of the story, and I haven't had a moment's rest. It's been article after article on what we can do to save gay marriage.
I'm so, so sorry that's taking a toll on you. And on us. I barely come home anymore, let alone have the time to see you or spend time with you. Believe me when I say I hate it too. I miss you so damn much. I want more than anything to see you again and to spend time together.
Don't take it personally, sweetheart... I don't mean to hurt you by always being gone. But I need you to wait for me. I know you don't want to wait, and I don't blame you. You've had to put up with a lot of waiting. And even if the fight against Prop 8 makes some headway, you'd still have to wait for us to be able to get married because as much as I hate it too, I doubt it'll be overturned by tomorrow.
Last night you said, "Why would I want to marry someone who's never around?" But don't you see? I want to be your wife. I want you to be my wife. I'll do anything for us to have our happily ever after one day. But to do that, I can't stop fighting. I can't stop fighting for you, for us, and for everyone else in the same situation as we are.
I'm scared, Emma... I hope you haven't made up your mind. I hope you haven't given up hope on us.
I love you.
May
But gradually, the upsetting e-mails began to fade. Beneath the fighting and the various versions of the same excuse ("I won't be able to go to dinner tonight. I promise I'll make it up to you soon. Love, May"), I started to see the relationship that once was, the relationship that no longer existed. It was a sweet relationship that their break-up hadn't given them credit for, as most difficult break-ups do.
This was the relationship I became consumed with, that I read silently in crowded subways on the way to work, on break time at work, and the quiet of my own home. I probably read through a hundred e-mails a week. Their story sucked me in and kept me reading late into the night -- except it was better than any story I had known, because it was real. Or had been real, at one point in time...
To: Emma
From: Maylene
Subject: Good morning sweetheart
Sorry I left you alone in my bed, I got called in for work around 8 (uuuuuunnnnnhhhhhhhhhhhhh). I didn't want to wake you up since you looked so beautiful sleeping there... I hope you slept well.
I really appreciated having you stay over last night after the movie. I feel like it's really been a while since we've just been able to cuddle under the covers and hold each other close. I really missed that.
Not that you probably haven't found them yet, but I made you some lemon ricotta pancakes for breakfast. They should be on the counter -- hopefully the whipped cream hasn't melted by the time you got up. I made them just the way you like them, with that blueberry compote on top that you like so much.
I love you so much sweetheart. Hope to see you when I'm off of work.
To: Emma
From: Maylene
Subject: Busy tonight?
Hey gorgeous! I was wondering, do you want to catch a late movie tonight? I know Miyazaki really inspires your art and I figured you'd want to go see that movie of his that's out.
I know I'm not out until about 8 tonight, but I figured going to the opening day showing is better than not at all, right? And I know how excited you were for this movie, so I want to treat you.
Can't wait to see you tonight, if you're game. Love you...
I saw pictures of them once. I hadn't expected to find it, considering that the rest of the smartphone was wiped clean of its previous use. But still attached to an e-mail was a picture of the two of them:
To: Emma
From: Maylene
Subject: Speaking of unforgettable sights
You wanted the pictures from yesterday, right? Here are a few I took -- sorry there aren't more, they came out blurry.
To: Emma
From: Maylene
Subject: I forgot to mention this
P.S.: Have I mentioned you look fucking gorgeous lying naked in my bed with the sun leaking through the blinds after we've made love? Now that's a sight I'm not going to forget any time soon...
To: Emma
From: Maylene
Subject: Thanks for the amazing birthday baby <3
Hey baby,
Thank you SO much for taking me out yesterday. I know I was tired and bitchy after my boss decided to extend my deadline after RUSHING LIKE MAD to finish my three articles for the magazine (ugh, I'm still pissed off about that), and I know you really had to fight to get me out of the loft because all I wanted to do was sleep in. But you were right -- I really needed to get out and have some fun.
It was wonderful walking around the Botanical Gardens with you. It's been so long since we've gone out and about, and it was nice to see Golden Gate Park in bloom like that. And even though Cheesecake Factory in the Macy's building had such crappy service (Can you believe that waitress sneezed our food and was about to put it on our table before we told her to take it back??), it was fun to watch the city go by over dinner with you.
And dessert back at the loft... Mmm, thank you for that. That peach melba ice cream cake was amazing... as well as the fun we had before we ate it, haha ;)
Thank you for the wonderful birthday, I don't think I could've asked for anything better. I love you so much sweetheart.
May
There were three pictures -- a picture of them at Golden Gate Park, another of Emma at the dinner table, and the last of Maylene blowing out the candle on her cake -- but my favorite of the three was the one at Golden Gate Park. Both of them were attractive young women in their mid-twenties, which was younger than I had expected. They were complete contrasts of each other. Maylene was tall with a dark wave of hair which framed her face and bright green eyes. Emma was shorter and more petite, with pixie-like short hair. In the picture, Emma's head was nestled into Maylene's shoulder, smiling shyly at the camera. You could tell that Maylene had one hand holding her camera up, and the other arm wrapped tightly around Emma like Maylene was never going to let her go. The backdrop of San Francisco on a rare, clear spring afternoon made the photo a particularly unique memory.
As I gazed sadly at the photo on my Columba's screen, remembering that they were no longer together like they were in this picure, I wondered if Maylene still had a copy of the photo for herself.
--
"Sorry I'm late," said a voice, and I looked up from the e-mail I had just been reading to see my date for the evening sit down across from me at my table. "I hope I didn't keep you waiting for long."
"It's alright, don't worry about it." I replied.
I didn't bother telling her that I had been waiting for almost two hours already. I had been waiting at the restaurant so long that the waiters had started giving me weird looks as I snacked on breadsticks by myself. But it was only the second date, and things were too fresh and new to be honest. She was too intelligent, too nice, and too pretty to be honest to on the second date.
"What've you been reading?" She asked, pointing at my smartphone. I quickly put it away, not wanting to be caught in the act of snooping around.
"Nothing. Just reading a story. What happened today?"
"Oh, work was really hectic today. Lots of people called in sick, I had to make up for all the slack... You know how it is, right? I would've let you know earlier that I was going to be late, but my boss didn't bother telling me until the last minute."
I couldn't help but ask, "Couldn't you have shot me a text or anything?"
"I know, and I'm SO sorry for that," my date admitted, brushing her hair back away from her face and looking at me with the most sweet-looking puppy eyes I had seen in a long time. "I hope it wasn't that much trouble. Forgive me?"
With that, my patience had dissolved. I suddenly didn't want to be so reserved on the first date. "You're just like Maylene," I muttered.
"Who's Maylene?"
"Someone I hope you don't turn out like," I said, grabbing my things and leaving the restaurant.
To: Emma
From: Maylene
Subject: That little ring on your finger
I meant to say this last night, but we got a little, ahem, caught up in eating that chocolate ganache cake together...
I know we can't get married right away, but I really hope that promise ring shows how serious I am about you. I love you, Em. As soon as this stupid mess goes away, I want to see you in a pretty white dress. I love you more than the world and I know I don't show it nearly enough.
To: Emma
From: Maylene
Subject: RE: Again?
I know, sweetie, I don't like it either. Please don't be upset. My boss didn't tell me until last second that I needed to rewrite one of my articles...
I promise sweetheart, I'll make up for it tonight.
To: Emma
From: Maylene
Subject: RE: RE: Thank you!
Sorry, I know I said I'd be off by 5... but I actually should be off by around 7 or 8 tonight -- I know it's later than I told you yesterday, but it's the earliest I can get off today.
To: Emma
From: Maylene
Subject: RE: Thank you!
You're welcome baby. I'm so relieved you like the flowers! I know you're not always into old fashioned romantic stuff, but I figured that if the flowers and ribbon were in your favorite colors, then you'd enjoy them. I'm so glad pink roses and that lacy olive green ribbon I found go well together...
I have another surprise for you when I get home.
M
To: Emma
From: Maylene
Subject: Happy Valentine's day
Em,
There should be a surprise on your doorstep (:
Promise I'll be home soon for Valentine's Day dinner.
May
--
Although reading through the entire inbox had a more profound effect on my life than I had expected, it probably only took me about a month to read through all of the e-mails.
I thought that by the time I had gotten to the bottom of the inbox, I'd know why Maylene and Emma had broken up and I would answer all my own questions. Instead I found that even though I had a feeling I knew why Emma had left, it didn't make me feel any better and it hadn't answered any questions at all. Reading those e-mails had left me feeling empty, knowing that I had seen such a personal part of their relationship nobody else had ever seen, and yet I hadn't really known them for who they were.
As I read that last and final message, I knew I would never again hear from Maylene. Although I knew that she was pouring her heart out to Emma, part of me felt as if she spoke to me as well, her secret and invisible reader.
To: Emma
From: Maylene
Subject: Happy birthday baby!
Hey sweetheart! I know you're probably a little pissed off at me for getting caught up at work... It's been so busy at the office lately, and it doesn't help that I had to take up some of my co-worker's articles since they've all been out of work. Grumble grumble.
But that's not what this is about! You probably thought that I forgot about your birthday. Trust me when I say that I did anything but. I know I can be kind of a flake, but I swear that I had this planned out weeks and weeks ago. Remember when we were walking around Union Square around Christmas time and you were complaining about how you wanted to get a smartphone but you couldn't decide on which one to get? Well... you didn't want a horribly sentimental gift, and obviously you know what I decided to do, since you're reading this on your brand new baby Columba <3
I know you have a separate e-mail from the default e-mail you get on this phone, but I wanted to send this to this e-mail account for a special reason. I know this is terribly romantic of me (and you're probably rolling your eyes right now since you hate how cheesy I can be -- see! look! you are!), but I promise as often as I can, I'll e-mail you a little love letter to make up for my crazy work schedule lately. This e-mail can be your "love letter" account, so you can keep that secret from your work e-mail. It's a little old fashioned, I know, but at least it's not as old fashioned as pen and paper! And that way you'll know that even though I'm busy at work, I'm always thinking about you, and there's nothing more that I want than to be with you.
Just remember, I never forgot. I will never forget. And I promise, I'll always remember you and love you.
Love,
May
After staring at the screen in silence, I realized something and went back and looked at the first e-mail I had read, Maylene's last e-mail to Emma. The date on that e-mail was April 10th.
I had received my Columba on April 17th, only a week later. Emma must have felt the need to let Maylene go, in all senses of the word.
I turned over the smartphone and peeled back the silicone phone cover that I had placed on it after getting the Columba initially. I had completely forgotten about the engraving on the back until now.
I never forgot. I will never forget.
And I wouldn't forget either.
the end
Author's note:
This story was inspired by Jack Finney's "The Love Letter".
sightlessmind)e-mail: kayjaylai [ at ] yahoo dot com
Okay, I'll admit it -- the real reason why I bought it was just because I wanted it.
I tried to justify it. I said that I needed it because my job was archaic enough to still send out our work schedules via e-mail. I said that I was tired of not receiving my work schedule right away, and I often showed up to work at the wrong day and time looking like a fool because of it. I said that my current hunk of plastic masquerading as a cell phone must at least have been partially made out of soap because it kept insisting on flying out of my hands and into the middle of the street. I said that after having my cell clatter to the ground for the umpteenth time, this piece of junk was problematic, laggy, and could barely handle a simple phone call without the battery dying. I said that if I was going to get a new phone, I should just get something good that wouldn't break down on me halfway through my phone contract.
I must have come up with a million excuses to try to fool the world and myself with.
But the real reason why I bought it was just because I wanted it. Everyone had a smartphone these days. I saw them everywhere, subtly advertised to me by the dozens of people I met in my day who couldn't keep their eyes of of their prized possession, as well as on the ridiculous amount of ads projected onto billboards the size of movie screens. On dinner dates, the person sitting across from me would often pull out their smartphone whenever they got bored of me and my feeble attempt at conversation. Although for a while I told myself that people like that weren't worth my time anyway, I couldn't help but feel a little envious of the compact, slick piece of technology they held cradled in their hands. I wanted one for my own, something reliable to turn to when the rest of the world caught me in awkward positions like uncomfortable first dates.
So I bought one. To avoid the overwhelming amount of technological jargon that would inevitably occur the second I walked into a store to make my choice, I decided to scour the internet for it. Luckily, after a few days and nights of research and poking around search engines, I finally found the one.
GALAXY COLUMBA8.11 - $275 (San Francisco)
DATE: 20xx-xx-xx
Reply to: kjpl-09917101@sale.adlist.org
selling olive green columba noachi. generation 8, software update 11 (with extended wifi support).
used, but almost new condition. no scratches or scuffs. comes with charger and usb. no box. locked to galaxy, NOT unlocked. don't know how to jailbreak, sorry. 1 year old, but still under 2 year warranty.
will also include free shipping.
Location: San Francisco
it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests
About a week later, I tore open a box that revealed the sleekest bit of technology I ever had my hands on. It was, as the ad said, an olive green version of the popular Columba Naochi. But it was the most delicate mobile phone I had ever seen, about the size of a chocolate bar and just as thin. In my mind, I worried that it had the same dexterity and would break just as evenly as chocolate too. Luckily, countless amounts of reviews had told me it was much sturdier and dependable than that. The phone's condition was testimony to its quality; it lay amongst the packaging as new as the ones I had seen in stores. I slipped my fingers around its soft corners and admired the purchase in my hand -- until I felt my fingertips brush against a spindly groove on the back of the phone.
So much for no scratches or scuffs, I thought, remorsefully thinking that a smartphone at such a reasonable price was too good to be true.
I flipped it over to inspect it, worried to find a deep scratch too difficult to repair. Instead I found dainty cursive letters carefully pressed into the lower back of the phone's metal casing. It wasn't entirely uncommon to find engravings on smartphones since it left a personalized touch to an otherwise reduplicated product that could be found everywhere, but I hadn't expected to find what I did. The engraving simply read
I never forgot. I will never forget.
To be honest, the first time I saw it I didn't think much of it. I wondered briefly why the seller would have been intent on getting rid of a personalized phone like this in such good condition, but I figured that it was probably just a memory worth getting rid of. Concerned by the morbid undertones of the message, I made a mental note to myself to buy a phone case as soon as possible to cover up the engraving.
The rest of the smartphone, however, was in immaculate condition. After a while, it was actually a bit disturbing since I would have imagined a used smartphone would have had more evidence of its previous owner. None of its software or applications seemed to have any trace of previous use, and I wondered how someone could own a smartphone - with a personalized message - for an entire year without even using it. I spent the rest of the day tinkering with the phone, as anyone would when they find themselves with a shiny new toy in their grasp. By the end of the day my wrists ached from holding the phone stiff and motionless, whereas my fingers ached from moving too much, too rapidly. I was about to put the phone (and my joints) to rest for the day and head to bed before I realized that I had no idea when my work schedule was for the upcoming week.
I fiddled about trying to find the e-mail application when I found the first and only trace of a previous owner on my phone. At the login screen of the mePhone e-mail application was a preset e-mail and password, "remembered" by this phone's memory which was otherwise a blank slate. A faint but persistent curiosity about the mysterious owner who had diligently covered their own tracks made me hesitate to consider invading someone's personal privacy. The more morally conscientious side of me told me it was wrong to meddle in other people's affairs, but the less morally right side coincidentally (fatefully?) let my finger slip and log in to see the contents of the previous recipient's inbox.
The account was almost completely empty - no sent mail, no trash, not even spam - except for the fact that there were hundreds of e-mails in the inbox. Strangely, they all were addressed from one and only one person.
To: Emma
From: Maylene
Subject: I'm sorry
Hi,
I know I'm the last person you want to hear from right now. I'm sure that your life must be amazing lately and I'm just ruining it all by writing this... if you even read this, anyway. I don't know if you even check this e-mail account anymore. I guess if you don't, I'm at least letting this out instead of letting it bottle up inside of me...
I can't keep pretending that I'm okay. It's been so long and yet I'm still having so much trouble getting over you. I just can't seem to let this go. I want to see you and tell you how much I can't stop thinking about you, but I know that I would just mess everything up even more than I already have.
What happened to us? I feel like we had something so perfect, so good, and suddenly we fell apart before we had the chance to stop it. I don't understand why you left. I feel like I'm barely even alive anymore... My body just seems like it's on auto-pilot and my mind keeps replaying the memories of us over and over again until I can barely sleep.
I'm sorry. I know I'm not doing anything by telling you this. I'm probably just making things worse. I hope your fiancé doesn't get upset with you for getting e-mails from me, I know if I were him I would be...
I just wish things hadn't ended like this. I miss you so much, Em. Don't you realize that? I feel like I'm stuck in the past and you're moving on without me. You have a man in your life now who could do what I never could do for you. I could never marry you. I know that's not the reason why you left me, but sometimes... Sometimes, I just wish I had said yes.
I'm sorry. Everything's coming out wrong and this isn't what I meant to say at all... and yet, this is everything I wish I could've told you before you left me.
Emma... Please, please realize that I am sorry. You do deserve much better, and I'm sure that your new man is wonderful. I really hope you're happy, Emma, not in the insincere way, but in the way that I really hope he makes you happy the way I know I can't. You deserve it.
Maylene
P.S.: I still love you...
There was something about reading that e-mail that touched me in a way I hadn't expected. My heart ached empathetically in an eerily familiar way, and I could feel my heartbeat pounding between my ears. Reading those words reminded me of my last relationship which had abandoned me with the same awful feelings. Samantha had jilted me and left me for Ben -- the fact that they're married now and have a child continues to haunt me even now. I knew what it felt like to be in Maylene's shoes, whoever she was. And in a strange way, it made me smile to think of someone writing real, coherent letters in a time where most people barely had the decency to say hello. It had been so long since I had last seen a letter, and the part of me that was attracted to the old-fashioned romantic notions of communication wholly approved.
But there was more to it than that. How often do you get the chance to peek into the inner workings of another person's relationship? Whenever I asked any of my friends about their relationship, I often received an answer that was unremarkable. It was rare to ever get a glimpse into a woman's mind, let alone the committed woman who gave her heart selflessly to another. I knew few people who had the honesty to express themselves in such a way, including myself.
As the night waned, I felt that I had had enough of meddling around in someone else's business and should head to bed. I promised myself that I would log out and delete the login from my new smartphone and never let myself think about that e-mail again.
--
A week later, I found myself logged in to Emma's account and reading Maylene's e-mails again.
As morally questionable as that makes me sound, I can't really explain why I couldn't stop reading them. I couldn't bring myself to delete Emma's login. The more I tried to put that e-mail of my mind, the more questions I couldn't stop asking myself. There was a part of me that I realized that I could relate to Maylene more than I had ever expected to -- and like her, I wondered, questioned, why Emma had left her. I wanted to know the answer just as much as Maylene did.
The first handful of e-mails were painful, miserable little messages that had probably made the relationship sour between them. Many of them were short, curt, and angry:
To: Emma
From: Maylene
Subject: RE: A little thing called sexual fluidity
Please don't tell me that sexuality is fluid and all that bullshit. Of COURSE I know that, Emma -- I probably said that a million times after I came out to my family. You're just the last person I want to hear that from.
To: Emma
From: Maylene
Subject: RE: My dating life
I'm not TRYING to control your dating life. But you were the one that said -- you were CONVINCED -- that you would never date a man. What the hell, Emma?!
To: Emma
From: Maylene
Subject: No no no no no no no
Katie just told me she saw you at Louise's
She told me you were sitting across the table from a man
You were in that red dress I bought you for Christmas, he was wearing a tie but no jacket
Katie just told me you were on a date at Louise's with a man
A MAN, Emma
YOU WERE ON A DATE WITH A MAN?
I thought you always said you were a lesbian
"Born a lesbian, always a lesbian -- men aren't worth my time"
How could you be dating a man?!
Other e-mails were quiet whispers, messages laced with sadness that were barely covered up.
To: Emma
From: Maylene
Subject: Your stuff
Lauren came by the loft today to pick up your stuff. I think she got most of it, but let me know if I missed anything.
I guess this is real now, isn't it...?
M
To: Emma
From: Maylene
Subject: Don't
You haven't answered your phone in a week.
I can't do this, Emma... please don't. I need you. I don't want to be without you. Stay with me...
To: Emma
From: Maylene
Subject: Please read this
Em, you're not serious about this, are you? Please don't do this.
To: Emma
From: Maylene
Subject: Read this
Pick up your phone. Let's just talk about this.
To: Emma
From: Maylene
Subject: Emma...
Baby, are you still mad at me?
To: Emma
From: Maylene
Subject:
Hey sweetie...
I know you're mad at me, but can we talk about this? Just hear me out.
I don't want to lose you. Please answer your phone soon... I love you too much to let you go.
To: Emma
From: Maylene
Subject: Please listen
You haven't been answering your phone since last night, so I figured I'd try e-mailing you...
Listen to me, sweetie. We've talked about this before -- things have been crazy ever since Prop 8. The magazine's had to cover so many angles of the story, and I haven't had a moment's rest. It's been article after article on what we can do to save gay marriage.
I'm so, so sorry that's taking a toll on you. And on us. I barely come home anymore, let alone have the time to see you or spend time with you. Believe me when I say I hate it too. I miss you so damn much. I want more than anything to see you again and to spend time together.
Don't take it personally, sweetheart... I don't mean to hurt you by always being gone. But I need you to wait for me. I know you don't want to wait, and I don't blame you. You've had to put up with a lot of waiting. And even if the fight against Prop 8 makes some headway, you'd still have to wait for us to be able to get married because as much as I hate it too, I doubt it'll be overturned by tomorrow.
Last night you said, "Why would I want to marry someone who's never around?" But don't you see? I want to be your wife. I want you to be my wife. I'll do anything for us to have our happily ever after one day. But to do that, I can't stop fighting. I can't stop fighting for you, for us, and for everyone else in the same situation as we are.
I'm scared, Emma... I hope you haven't made up your mind. I hope you haven't given up hope on us.
I love you.
May
But gradually, the upsetting e-mails began to fade. Beneath the fighting and the various versions of the same excuse ("I won't be able to go to dinner tonight. I promise I'll make it up to you soon. Love, May"), I started to see the relationship that once was, the relationship that no longer existed. It was a sweet relationship that their break-up hadn't given them credit for, as most difficult break-ups do.
This was the relationship I became consumed with, that I read silently in crowded subways on the way to work, on break time at work, and the quiet of my own home. I probably read through a hundred e-mails a week. Their story sucked me in and kept me reading late into the night -- except it was better than any story I had known, because it was real. Or had been real, at one point in time...
To: Emma
From: Maylene
Subject: Good morning sweetheart
Sorry I left you alone in my bed, I got called in for work around 8 (uuuuuunnnnnhhhhhhhhhhhhh). I didn't want to wake you up since you looked so beautiful sleeping there... I hope you slept well.
I really appreciated having you stay over last night after the movie. I feel like it's really been a while since we've just been able to cuddle under the covers and hold each other close. I really missed that.
Not that you probably haven't found them yet, but I made you some lemon ricotta pancakes for breakfast. They should be on the counter -- hopefully the whipped cream hasn't melted by the time you got up. I made them just the way you like them, with that blueberry compote on top that you like so much.
I love you so much sweetheart. Hope to see you when I'm off of work.
To: Emma
From: Maylene
Subject: Busy tonight?
Hey gorgeous! I was wondering, do you want to catch a late movie tonight? I know Miyazaki really inspires your art and I figured you'd want to go see that movie of his that's out.
I know I'm not out until about 8 tonight, but I figured going to the opening day showing is better than not at all, right? And I know how excited you were for this movie, so I want to treat you.
Can't wait to see you tonight, if you're game. Love you...
I saw pictures of them once. I hadn't expected to find it, considering that the rest of the smartphone was wiped clean of its previous use. But still attached to an e-mail was a picture of the two of them:
To: Emma
From: Maylene
Subject: Speaking of unforgettable sights
You wanted the pictures from yesterday, right? Here are a few I took -- sorry there aren't more, they came out blurry.
To: Emma
From: Maylene
Subject: I forgot to mention this
P.S.: Have I mentioned you look fucking gorgeous lying naked in my bed with the sun leaking through the blinds after we've made love? Now that's a sight I'm not going to forget any time soon...
To: Emma
From: Maylene
Subject: Thanks for the amazing birthday baby <3
Hey baby,
Thank you SO much for taking me out yesterday. I know I was tired and bitchy after my boss decided to extend my deadline after RUSHING LIKE MAD to finish my three articles for the magazine (ugh, I'm still pissed off about that), and I know you really had to fight to get me out of the loft because all I wanted to do was sleep in. But you were right -- I really needed to get out and have some fun.
It was wonderful walking around the Botanical Gardens with you. It's been so long since we've gone out and about, and it was nice to see Golden Gate Park in bloom like that. And even though Cheesecake Factory in the Macy's building had such crappy service (Can you believe that waitress sneezed our food and was about to put it on our table before we told her to take it back??), it was fun to watch the city go by over dinner with you.
And dessert back at the loft... Mmm, thank you for that. That peach melba ice cream cake was amazing... as well as the fun we had before we ate it, haha ;)
Thank you for the wonderful birthday, I don't think I could've asked for anything better. I love you so much sweetheart.
May
There were three pictures -- a picture of them at Golden Gate Park, another of Emma at the dinner table, and the last of Maylene blowing out the candle on her cake -- but my favorite of the three was the one at Golden Gate Park. Both of them were attractive young women in their mid-twenties, which was younger than I had expected. They were complete contrasts of each other. Maylene was tall with a dark wave of hair which framed her face and bright green eyes. Emma was shorter and more petite, with pixie-like short hair. In the picture, Emma's head was nestled into Maylene's shoulder, smiling shyly at the camera. You could tell that Maylene had one hand holding her camera up, and the other arm wrapped tightly around Emma like Maylene was never going to let her go. The backdrop of San Francisco on a rare, clear spring afternoon made the photo a particularly unique memory.
As I gazed sadly at the photo on my Columba's screen, remembering that they were no longer together like they were in this picure, I wondered if Maylene still had a copy of the photo for herself.
--
"Sorry I'm late," said a voice, and I looked up from the e-mail I had just been reading to see my date for the evening sit down across from me at my table. "I hope I didn't keep you waiting for long."
"It's alright, don't worry about it." I replied.
I didn't bother telling her that I had been waiting for almost two hours already. I had been waiting at the restaurant so long that the waiters had started giving me weird looks as I snacked on breadsticks by myself. But it was only the second date, and things were too fresh and new to be honest. She was too intelligent, too nice, and too pretty to be honest to on the second date.
"What've you been reading?" She asked, pointing at my smartphone. I quickly put it away, not wanting to be caught in the act of snooping around.
"Nothing. Just reading a story. What happened today?"
"Oh, work was really hectic today. Lots of people called in sick, I had to make up for all the slack... You know how it is, right? I would've let you know earlier that I was going to be late, but my boss didn't bother telling me until the last minute."
I couldn't help but ask, "Couldn't you have shot me a text or anything?"
"I know, and I'm SO sorry for that," my date admitted, brushing her hair back away from her face and looking at me with the most sweet-looking puppy eyes I had seen in a long time. "I hope it wasn't that much trouble. Forgive me?"
With that, my patience had dissolved. I suddenly didn't want to be so reserved on the first date. "You're just like Maylene," I muttered.
"Who's Maylene?"
"Someone I hope you don't turn out like," I said, grabbing my things and leaving the restaurant.
To: Emma
From: Maylene
Subject: That little ring on your finger
I meant to say this last night, but we got a little, ahem, caught up in eating that chocolate ganache cake together...
I know we can't get married right away, but I really hope that promise ring shows how serious I am about you. I love you, Em. As soon as this stupid mess goes away, I want to see you in a pretty white dress. I love you more than the world and I know I don't show it nearly enough.
To: Emma
From: Maylene
Subject: RE: Again?
I know, sweetie, I don't like it either. Please don't be upset. My boss didn't tell me until last second that I needed to rewrite one of my articles...
I promise sweetheart, I'll make up for it tonight.
To: Emma
From: Maylene
Subject: RE: RE: Thank you!
Sorry, I know I said I'd be off by 5... but I actually should be off by around 7 or 8 tonight -- I know it's later than I told you yesterday, but it's the earliest I can get off today.
To: Emma
From: Maylene
Subject: RE: Thank you!
You're welcome baby. I'm so relieved you like the flowers! I know you're not always into old fashioned romantic stuff, but I figured that if the flowers and ribbon were in your favorite colors, then you'd enjoy them. I'm so glad pink roses and that lacy olive green ribbon I found go well together...
I have another surprise for you when I get home.
M
To: Emma
From: Maylene
Subject: Happy Valentine's day
Em,
There should be a surprise on your doorstep (:
Promise I'll be home soon for Valentine's Day dinner.
May
--
Although reading through the entire inbox had a more profound effect on my life than I had expected, it probably only took me about a month to read through all of the e-mails.
I thought that by the time I had gotten to the bottom of the inbox, I'd know why Maylene and Emma had broken up and I would answer all my own questions. Instead I found that even though I had a feeling I knew why Emma had left, it didn't make me feel any better and it hadn't answered any questions at all. Reading those e-mails had left me feeling empty, knowing that I had seen such a personal part of their relationship nobody else had ever seen, and yet I hadn't really known them for who they were.
As I read that last and final message, I knew I would never again hear from Maylene. Although I knew that she was pouring her heart out to Emma, part of me felt as if she spoke to me as well, her secret and invisible reader.
To: Emma
From: Maylene
Subject: Happy birthday baby!
Hey sweetheart! I know you're probably a little pissed off at me for getting caught up at work... It's been so busy at the office lately, and it doesn't help that I had to take up some of my co-worker's articles since they've all been out of work. Grumble grumble.
But that's not what this is about! You probably thought that I forgot about your birthday. Trust me when I say that I did anything but. I know I can be kind of a flake, but I swear that I had this planned out weeks and weeks ago. Remember when we were walking around Union Square around Christmas time and you were complaining about how you wanted to get a smartphone but you couldn't decide on which one to get? Well... you didn't want a horribly sentimental gift, and obviously you know what I decided to do, since you're reading this on your brand new baby Columba <3
I know you have a separate e-mail from the default e-mail you get on this phone, but I wanted to send this to this e-mail account for a special reason. I know this is terribly romantic of me (and you're probably rolling your eyes right now since you hate how cheesy I can be -- see! look! you are!), but I promise as often as I can, I'll e-mail you a little love letter to make up for my crazy work schedule lately. This e-mail can be your "love letter" account, so you can keep that secret from your work e-mail. It's a little old fashioned, I know, but at least it's not as old fashioned as pen and paper! And that way you'll know that even though I'm busy at work, I'm always thinking about you, and there's nothing more that I want than to be with you.
Just remember, I never forgot. I will never forget. And I promise, I'll always remember you and love you.
Love,
May
After staring at the screen in silence, I realized something and went back and looked at the first e-mail I had read, Maylene's last e-mail to Emma. The date on that e-mail was April 10th.
I had received my Columba on April 17th, only a week later. Emma must have felt the need to let Maylene go, in all senses of the word.
I turned over the smartphone and peeled back the silicone phone cover that I had placed on it after getting the Columba initially. I had completely forgotten about the engraving on the back until now.
I never forgot. I will never forget.
And I wouldn't forget either.
the end
Author's note:
This story was inspired by Jack Finney's "The Love Letter".
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I thought there was going to be a twist like it's her phone from the future but then the twist was how you incorporated the theme. Very clever, and it kept me reading to the end. Thank you for the really good read!
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