A Dusk Blue Kinda Soul

It was awkward at first… seeing him there. Initially, I thought it was just a trick of the mind or just someone who had similar features and at a glance could be his twin. But I did a double take, and a triple take, and even looked back again a fourth time. There was no mistaking it was him: I had made sure to memorize the square shape of his fair-skinned face and the hooded but scheming gray eyes that had once looked at me with so much determination and passion. I made a promise to myself that I would never forget that face for the rest of my life.

But he was here. Of all the places in the world, he was here. The first time I saw him and realized it was him, I bolted out the door of the local coffee shop. I wasn’t sure if he had already seen me, and I was hoping it was just some strange coincidence, but there was no way I was going to let him see me there, or anywhere for that matter.

At some point, I wondered if it was destiny or fate, but there was absolutely no way. That ship had come and sailed right by on an ocean that never existed. I still vividly remember—and will probably never forget—the last time that I saw him.


A dusk blue Charger, that is what he drove up in as I was taking the last of my boxes out of the apartment and carrying them to the truck. He came up to me, took the box out of my hand and placed it on the ground in front of me. I was honestly very shocked and once I found my voice, I began to protest, but he cut me off, looked me squarely in the eye and said, “I think it’s foolish and stupid for you to move to another city, another state on top of that. You don’t know anyone over there! You’ll be all alone and by yourself!”

I leaned down to pick up my box, and as I rose back up, I looked him defiantly in the eye—at least I think it was defiant, I felt defiant. I told him, “I don’t know who you think you are, or who thought it would be a good idea to send you to talk to me today, but it is neither yours nor anyone else’s business what I decide to do with my life. Do whatever the fuck you want to do with your life, but please leave mine alone.”

Abruptly, I turned away and walked towards the truck, box in hand. Behind me, I heard him sigh in what I guess sounded like frustration. He threw his hands up in what seemed like resignation as he walked toward his car, got in, and sped off.


For weeks, I did my best to block him out of my mind and eventually found comfort in knowing that I was halfway across the country and would never see him again. Or, at least, the chances of seeing him again had to be really slim.

But I guess, as life had continuously taught me, the odds were ever in my favor.

After that appearance at the coffee shop, I began to see him everywhere, and I couldn’t comprehend what was happening. How could he possibly end up here, of all places? I don’t know if I was intrigued or terrified or a little bit of both, but I was unsure of what to do.

About a month after I first saw him, I came home one evening to a package at my door. There was no return address or sender information, or stamps or, in retrospect, any indication that it was delivered by a delivery service.

Sitting down on my steps, I took a deep breath and picked up the box. I shook it around a little bit, nothing seemed to break.so I opened it. Inside was a box of chocolates that were cool to the touch, as if they hadn’t been out of a fridge for too long. Beside it was a jewelry box with a rose-gold charm bracelet and a single sapphire in the shape of a dewdrop connected by a thin line to the word “love.” Beneath it was a card and it read:

“I still think this was a stupid move, but don’t worry, I’ll always be here with you.”

I looked up in time to see a dusk blue Charger slowly drive past my apartment building and away into the sunset.

To be honest, Officer, I wish I could tell you his name, I wish I could give you more information, but the truth is…

I have no idea who he is.