I had known Marie Pierce since the beginning of our existences. Growing up in the small mountain town of Woodsfield Ohio made it easy for two paths of fate to become intertwined. As children we had played together, as pre-teens we had struggled through the awkward stages together, and through high school we had suffered together. Growing up, Marie was the kind of girl no one ever wanted to see upset. She had one of those plain yet angelic faces that should never be burdened with fear or sadness. Her personal magnetism was unparalleled; she could turn strangers into dear friends within minutes. I on the other had had been rather reserved back then. With no father in the house it was easy for me to be a mama’s boy. My mother taught me right from the get go, “Treat your woman like a goddess Howie, ‘cause one day she might just take the kids and leave.” Of course at age 7 I couldn’t really understand the connotations of her lessons, but eventually I picked up on her utter resentment of my burnout father. I spent my childhood playing with Marie, observing her entrancing ways and pushing down any feelings of romance towards her in fear that one day she would leave my life forever. She was my best friend, I felt as though out live were forever connected.

It was in our post-secondary years that Marie and I began to drift. She chased her dream all the way to Syracuse, New York and I decided I needed some distance and warmth in Durham, North Carolina. We went from constant phone calls, to occasional emails, to only ever wishing each other happy holidays. Breaks from school brought different events for both of us, until we never got to see each other. It tore me up inside that I had denied my feelings for all those years to keep her close, yet I lost her anyways.

It was years later, when my work took me New York City, that I saw my Marie again. Working in lower Manhattan had been known as a soul crushing business, but the money was good and I was a spritely 30-something looking to climb the ladder of success. My time in NYC was solitary, making occasional friends with neighbors or co-workers but each relationship as ephemeral as the next.
One day as I was browsing through the shelves of my favorite neighborhood bookstore with my physical state as low as it has ever been. It had been a rough couple of weeks at the office, but things had finally died down and I was looking for some pleasure reads to reward myself. My 5 o’clock shadow was coming in nicely, and was running a contest with my hair and suit for “Most Disheveled”. It was there, after all those years, I heard that angelic voice again.
“Howie? Howard Clark is that you?” I heard from behind me. I whipped around, and there she was, my sweet Marie. It was the Marie I had known 20 years ago, yet something was amiss. Her hair was still that radiant auburn shade, only now cut short and proper. She had that entrancing smile on her face, only it looked tired and weak.
“Marie…” I said in a tone that somehow managed to combine astonishment and longing. We shared an embrace; the familiar form of her body brought a wave of comfort to me. “Marie Grace Pierce, where have you been?” I said in the tone of a concerned parent. She giggled.
“Well it’s Marie Grace Thorpe now,” she pointed to her left hand and the sizeable wedding ring that adorned it. “I’ve been here in New York! I met Ryan at Syracuse, and we’ve been here ever since. And how about you sir? How has Howie been?” Her favorite little idiosyncrasy from when we were little.
“Ah you know me, all work. Worked in the business district in Durham for a bit, then I got transferred up here. God, it’s really been years since we’ve had one of our famous talks.”
“I know, I’ve missed you Howie!” Her words pulled me back and forth, drawing me in and turning me away with each new thing she said. Each brutal truth about her new life felt like a bullet hole in my heart. “I’ve got to go, the little one is with the nanny at home.”
“You… you have a child?” Bang, another shot. “Emma, my little Emma. She’s almost 2 now!” Bang. Bang. “We really have to catch up Howie. Here’s my new cell number, let’s get lunch tomorrow!” And there she went again pulling me in. She scribbled her loopy writing onto a card, paused for one last embrace, and was out the door.
We met up the next day; I got my act together with a clean shave and a new shirt. I waited for her, palms drenched with sweat; I had waited years for this, what was 20 minutes more? She burst through the doors of the little café, and like a ray of sun she instantly light up the room.
“Sorry I’m late!” she said catching her breath, “the nanny was running a bit late so I put Emma down for a nap myself.”
“Oh it’s alright, I just got here.” I said trying to downplay my jubilance. And then we dove in. Years of friends, family, experiences, adventures, losses, all caught up in that little café. We talked about everything and nothing, and one thing I knew for certain was that my Marie had never changed. The way she laughed before she could finish her jokes, the way she gestured her arms much too exuberantly, the way she twirled her hair while she intently listened to me speak, it was all too familiar. She had me under her spell again.

“Howie…” She snapped me out of my admiration sequence.

“Mhhhm?”

“ Howie you’re giving me that look you used to back in the day.” I checked myself, and it was painfully true. I was leaned in chin rested on arm, fawning on every word she said. As I opened my mouth to justify she stopped me.

“It’s ok, I feel it too Howie.” She looked down coyly.

“Wh-what?” I felt my face heat up.

“Wanna pay and get outta here? You live close right?” She said brandishing one of her smiles that made me melt.

“Yes, I do.” I scrambled to settle the check and we headed out. I didn’t know what was happening, but I dared not question it. My dream was becoming a reality, and I would accept it in any form it came. We walked, and as we stood pensively at the door of my apartment I searched for the words I had been practicing for so many years. But for some reason it seemed to me that action would be a better decision. I leaned in and kissed her, kissed my Marie with the passion of 20 plus years. I pulled back and saw her dumbfounded face.

“I’m so sorry” I pleaded

“Why?” She leaned in again and we stumbled into my apartment.


Sometime later, I was laying there with my arms around her, around my sweet Marie. It was late afternoon now, and the sun was about to duck down behind the captivating New York skyline. Her familiar form resting against mine, all I wanted was there in that moment.
“I have to go soon,” she implored, interrupting my Zen. I refused to answer. Everything was exactly as I wanted it, and if nothing changed happiness would be everlasting.
“Howie, the nanny has to go soon and-“
“I know, I know…” I released her from my hold. The sunset poured through the windows of my room and painted her skin beautiful shades of tangerine and plum. As she gathered herself I observed her silent beauty yet again.
“When will I see you again?” I inquired.
“Soon enough dear,” she leaned in for one more kiss and turned to leave. I caught her by the arm.
“Marie, I love you. I always have and I always will.” I said with conviction. She smiled warmly, kissed me once more, and headed out the door.
This affair with my dear Marie brought a new life to me. I felt as though a piece of me that had been missing for so long had finally returned, and I wanted so desperately to keep it. We’d meet whenever the nanny took Emma, and she would enter into my world, leaving everything else behind. It was sort of an unspoken rule that we would not speak of her other life, of Ryan or Emma or any of that. When she was with me, she was mine and that was all I needed.
One day we had planned to meet up at that same café where it had all started, as a sort of celebration of us having found each other and being together for all these months. I again sat there waiting for her, an eternal trend. I sat for a half hour at first, then an hour, and then 2 hours and multiple phone calls and texts later, I decided to head home. Marie had flaked before, but never like this…
And just as suddenly as we had begun, we ended. Ryan had suffered from a stroke and needed severe medical attention from then on. Marie stopped needing me, stopped wanting me. Any communication between us ceased the day Ryan got sick. My affair with Marie left me yearning, the eternal waiting would continue on, but from then on it would be an internal struggle. I have, and forever will spend my days waiting for my Marie. Maybe someday I’ll learn that she was never mine, nor I hers.