When I arrived at the bar, the aches and exhaustion collected throughout this whole ordeal began to recede. Like a sponge wrung out of all the grease and grey soapy water. O’Sullivan’s was a fairly dingy establishment that had become a fixture in the town long before I was even born.

The atmosphere in the bar felt slightly disconnected from the dim lights and the dusty mirrors behind the bar. If you looked carefully, you could pick out the regular patrons sitting by the bar, resisting the more raucous clientele that was here only for this week. I felt a kinship with these gruff individuals.

I hadn’t taken more than five steps into the bar when I heard a voice cutting through the babble.

“I can’t believe what I’m seeing.” Tom made his way toward me, a drink in each hand, giving me a hug that smelled like old spice and beer. He handed me one of the drinks, a hard seltzer. I took a sip and shuddered, hoping Tom hadn’t noticed. It didn’t seem like he had.

“Well, isn’t this nice.” I wasn’t able to keep the sarcasm out of my voice, and this time Tom picked up on it.

“If that’s the best acting that you can do, I’ll call you a car.” I did wonder for a moment if he were serious, but he was already leading me toward an open space at the bar. He quickly ordered two tequilas.

Things have begun to get away from me, in ways that are getting… worrisome.

I wish that I could say that it was a great time. A part of me wished that I did better in these types of settings. It was too noisy in the bar, both Tom and I straining our voices to be heard. The alcohol seeping through my temples and sedating my brain. I quickly began to regret my decision, and was vigilant for any excuse to leave.

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It was as I cast my eyes quickly around the room that they alighted on her for half a second, long enough to yank my attention back. She had hardly changed, maybe a slight hitch in her posture that made her shoulders narrow a bit more. Maybe I was imagining things.

I struggled to pay attention to Tom over the next hour as I continued to make sure that she hadn’t left. Eventually, he began to yawn, his words tinged with a slight slur. I called him a cab, and helped him through the bar, and into the car. I was on my way back in when I nearly ran into her exiting the bar.

In a day that already felt temporally warped, this moment defied time from both extremes. A moment passing so fast, yet still stretching on into an eternity.

“I was coming out here to kill you.”

This sentence only added to my inability to say anything in response. She gave me a slight push, and I backed up without protest. Out beneath the street lamp, I got a better view of her face, and breathed a sigh of relief, seeing that she was smiling.

“Wait, why were you going to kill me?” I could think of a few reasons, but I needed to make sure we were on the same page.

“If you spent all night staring at me, and then ducked out without saying anything,” we began to walk, “then, I would have killed you.

The only way that I can describe the next four hours, is as a strange coalescence, a trip with Clara back through the avenues of our old neighborhood. We’d gone down all of these streets together at one point or another, so part of each step was in the past. Before I knew it the sun was beginning to rise, and I was dropping her off at her house, or her parent’s house.

She gave me a hug that only further washed me backwards in time. We agreed to see each other Friday evening. Then I walked home. The air felt different on the walk home. Like that first smell of must and decay heralding a new spring. It smelled like change was on the horizon. It filled me with a sense of dread.