EchoNYC.com Post on N.F. & Our Chance encounter at Bedford

At the corner of North 7th Street and Bedford Avenue, there is a glowing green globe under which  the L train arrives (wherein spectacular people-watching occurs of all these whose only commonality is knowledge that CBGB's once reigned supreme). And there:

a graveyard of sorts. You can tell by the rust, the inkblot grit, the beausage. Free elements fly and fall and soar and swirl while Free Agents abandon. Abandon. abandon. Where Fixies and Roadsters and Mountaineers and Hybrids and Customs and Frames Catatonic or Split were last chained--and have since retired into air and iron--into the great decay of an ephemeral Williamsburg.

It was next to this tangled pile of metallic bodies dying slowly on each other that

in a beat we saw one another then walked on.

And in that beat, I saw the suspicions she had of me, the distressing revelations, the aching confirmation conversations, and the penultimate decision. To leave me. A week earlier far and away.

Her eyes stared for the eons in a startled second. Her body came up and out of the fluorescent L exit and into the brisk crisp of February Brooklyn.

And in that beat, it were only her eyes turned toward me. Her body knew better, and continued to Bedford.

Though the dark and cool haunted my periphery, I could still make out why I adored her in the contours of her face, a doe. She liked to poke me awake, which I thought I hated. She laughed at everything I said yet nothing she said ever made me laugh, which I thought I hated. She insisted I try Vietnamese, which I thought I hated. She danced fine but never celebrated music, which I thought I hated. She was never sure of us and cried like clockwork late into fortnights over the static burbles of attempted language through a phone. Which I thought I hated.

And in that beat, her rigid lips stoic told me to enter the misery of true, deep remorse. And I knew I could not unravel the skyscraping wall I had sewn while asleep in my own flitty dreams.

Walking, as I was, in that beat, on Fish Beach. Then she waded into Bedford, and I waited for her to clear the horizon.

*Surprised, Confused, Part of me wanted to run up and hug you, a part of me wanted to hit you, just walk away,  felt like "finally" walked away, I said Hi, I was biking-helmet and blue rainjacket, light Barbour Coat, Heels,  I said, or mouthed, "Hi", she walked away from it,