The story that cannot be told

There are stories that simply cannot be told. Any version won't do them justice. More details, fewer details: irrelevant. The simplified version, an elaborate one: irrelevant.  If I had to tell this story I have in mind to an audience, they would certainly tell me I am crazy and I would probably agree with them. Some stories make no sense. There are no plausible answers. These stories have no beginning and no end. They just exist as if they were part of something that transcends the version of the story we tell ourselves, which we might think is the true version. In this story, there are two couples living far away from each other. One couple lived in South America. They got married in 1972. She was ten years older than him. An odd couple if you ask me. The other couple lived in North America. I don't have many details on this couple, I just know it was a somewhat turbulent relationship, just like the one in South America. The South American couple had two kids, one in 1974 and another one in 1978. The couple in North America had two kids as well, one in 1976 and another one in 1974. The important thing to remember is that the 1978 baby met the 1976 baby in 2017. She had a stripped dress on and it was a breezy afternoon. Easter Sunday. She was in a bad mood that day. So was he. Their eyes locked in a store, the only store open in town on Easter Sunday. She needed to buy canned peaches to make a cake, but decided to grab some oranges on the other side of the store. On her way to the register, their paths crossed. What she remembers is a magnetic blue light sucking her attention. The blue light were his eyes. The ocean had the same color that afternoon when she went to the beach. She brought music with her and a smile. He called her that night. He had her number because he waited for her outside of the store and spoke to her. Invited her to dinner. Got her number. Her face facing the West. Feeling the wind. She had waited for him. Would it be exaggeration if I said that she had waited for him all of her life? He was nervous, grabbed a small piece of paper to write her number. She giggled. 2017, they had already invented personal phones, battery powered, able to send and receive written messages. It was common then to just call the number to make yourself known. How do I want to retell this story? How can I avoid the same details. The bad parts. How can I remember all of it? Some memories are already fading.


He eventually left her. She never forgot him. Even now when she looks at the stars she thinks of him. It is more than just thinking of someone. It's almost like she is two in one.