She walks toward me holding two cups of tea. One for me. One for her. In her broken English she tells me she wants to be an artist. I ask her if I can see some of her work. She doesn't show me because she says she is shy. I almost caught a glimpse of something in her brown sketchpad she holds with her everyday since I've met her. It is for me, she says. I laugh and take a sip of tea. The park bench is uncomfortable. The tea is sweet. A little cold but sweet. Kids continue to play like their childhood were endless and fear was never part of their dreams.
We are here for almost the same reasons. She came here to America to escape her country. To be free. At this time, I wonder where her parents are and if they worry about her. If they are thinking about where she is right now and if they miss her as my parents do to me. She tells me she is going back home in a few months to stay for the summer. She may come back to New York but is unsure for now. She tells me her friends want her to move back. I say I would fight for her to stay. You can stay with me, I say. She smiles but I wonder if she knows that I am serious in my offer. We both sit in silence and watch as people pass by us like a memory or a chance never taken between two lovers that could have been.
We then walk to her train stop where she will go to her Eastside apartment, make a pasta dinner, take a long bath, maybe call her friends in Denmark and tell them that she will be back home soon. She will tell them that she has met a boy- which is me whom wants her to never leave this place. She will tell them stories about us. About how I first met her at the restaurant I was working at, about how we sat and drank tea all day and traded questions and answers of things we never knew about each other. She will tell them stories about how I never kissed her at the park that one day after my shift was over.
It has been months since I have seen her and I know she has left for good. I think of her once in awhile hoping she will be back. I dreamt of her a few nights ago. There are still so many things unsaid. I did not even get the chance to say goodbye. I will find her one day.
Kyle Patrick Wong: Selected Works (2011-2012) is now up for viewing at kylewongphoto.com.
for M.
