RATHA DAVID LOUN

 EXCERPTS FROM MY LIFE//FINDING THE BRIDGE

Whenever I’d head to Crabtree on the weekends, I’d always wonder about the pedestrian bridge we’d go under. During springtime in the Triangle, I would see people running their dogs, biking, walking, etc. I thought it was a peculiar place for a bridge, seeing as US-1 was a busy interstate, but perhaps that’s the beauty of it. I wondered how I’d get there, but I never took the time to explore it. It wasn’t until one fateful January night in 2011 when things fell together the same night things fell a part that I’d get to see just how special this bridge could be.

In between order up and order out we’d have small conversations here and there. We both worked at a burger joint across from my mom’s salon, you were a waitress and I was a cook. You and I were two high schoolers trying to navigate through the hills and valleys of our emotions, our adolescence, and who we thought we were destined to become in the next 6 months after graduation. My mom and I had gone to Crabtree Valley the day before, so that day I came into work asking everybody about the bridge. Because I didn’t know anything about it didn’t mean others didn’t, so surely someone here knew about the bridge. I wanted to know how I could find it and where it led to. Inconvenienced by a busy night, I found it difficult to ask anyone on the waitstaff. I asked Ben. He didn’t know. I asked Rob. He didn’t know. By the end of the night, business had slowed down. I asked you if you knew anything about the bridge. You said you’d seen it and apparently you could get on it from Meredith College’s campus. Ironically that’s when Meredith called you over to talk about a customer by the milkshake machine. We both continued with our night like we typically did, but the relevancy of our hastened conversation would remain dormant until a month later.

I had split with my previous shorty earlier that year. I think most of my relationships around the time were guided too much by ego rather than love, hence leading to the inevitable end of each. I had been going back and forth with her between getting my belongings back, but those things never seemed to transition back to me. This led me to believe she wasn’t over me, and whether or not that was true, I don’t think I was over her either. For some reason, I thought getting back everything I’d written her, everything I’d given her, all the hoodies and shirts she had borrowed during our time together would come with closure. That’s why I fought so hard to get them back, but maybe my ego was looking for a reaction to let me know I wasn’t alone in how I felt. Long story short, someone she knew came into work a month after I asked you about the bridge. It was a continued saga of drama over things that ended up being trivial, but I remember you asked who that person was because you greeted him when he came in. When you got cut to go home, Josh (our boss/the owner) let me go home shortly thereafter. While cooking orders, I explained to him the whole situation. What I really admired about Josh was he was down to earth, even though he was our boss. I could talk to him like he was my uncle, and he’d give me sound advice through telling stories of his past experiences.

Thinking of how I had to tell Ben what happened, I hit him and pulled up at his crib half a mile from the Apex police station. When I got out the car, he stepped out the house with a cigarette in his mouth chuckling. We sat down on his porch after we dapped as I explained to him everything that went on at work regarding my belongings while he smoked away at his cigarette. As I went into detail, he kept cheesing, but not in a disrespectful way, more like an og way. Like he had been through something similar before and now it was my turn. Ben knew about my previous relationship and how it affected me, so he was familiar from the jump. I remember I kept talking about her on the cook line so much he banned her name from the restaurant lol. While Ben and I were talking, you texted me. You asked me what I was doing for the night. I texted back I didn’t have any plans. Then you hit me with “You wanna find the bridge tonight?” Surprised and hype off your text, I showed Ben my phone like a kid shows you a hi-score on a game. He asked what I was still doing at his crib and told me to go have fun for the night. I sent you the addy and headed home.

When I got home my parents were watching television. They stopped me before I went up the stairs to mention someone had stopped by to drop off a trash bag full of things. I get to my room, and there was a white Glad bag packed with hella shit. I opened it, and it was all my belongings I had wanted back for so long. There were letters, some of which were still folded how I gave them to her. There were Valentine’s Day cards. There were photos we took on monthly anniversaries. All the physical artifacts from my relationship with her were in this white trash bag. In the back of my mind, I knew you were heading over so I tried to make it brief. Before I knew it, you texted me you were outside. I came and got you from the front door. You said what’s up to my parents before we retreated to my room. Updating you on the situation, I showed you the bag on the middle of the floor. You asked if those were my things I wanted back, to which I replied yes. I ruffled through the bag quickly to show you how much was in there. Curious, you reached in and started looking at a few things on the top. I told you to make yourself comfortable as you sat on my bed and waited for me to shower. 20 minutes later, we walked out the house saying bye to parents heading for the bridge.

By this point it was dark. If I remember correctly it was 9:30pm. I went to my car, but you told me you’d drive us there in your navy blue 04’ Toyota Corolla. I grabbed a CD out my car for the ride there. I think you said you had been on Meredith’s campus before, but that it was gated shut after a certain time. That was one thing I remember you specifically saying on the way there. I filled you in with the situation and who the guy that you greeted earlier at work was. To be honest, I don’t know how we even got to the bridge. You parked your car in front of a local Raleigh business. We got out and had to walk through a tunnel. I usually like to lead but following you that night felt natural. You led us to a point where we had to jump down 4 feet onto another trail. I went first. When I got down, you said you needed help as you stuck your arm out. I grabbed your hand and held you as you jumped down.

From there, we made our way to the bridge. When we approached the bridge, they had gated it shut. The gate was 9 or 10 feet tall, but towards the sides it was more like 6 or 7. We looked at each other and knew what time it was. We both climbed the fence on the sides. Likewise, with ledge earlier, I helped you down once you were on the other side. As we were walking the bridge, I was in awe. The lights lit up and I wondered if the passengers driving under could see us as well as we could see them. It was a chilly January night, but I wouldn’t have had it any other way. I told you how crazy it was that we were on the bridge. You mentioned how peaceful hearing the cars were, and I agreed. We must’ve stood there watching traffic for half an hour. We walked down the path into darkness talking about everything. When we got too deep, we turned back. Just before the bridge, there was a bench people could sit on. We sat on the bench and talked for hours. You told me about your best friend, Anna, and how you and she drove 2 (or was it 3?) hours for some guy she used to talk to. You expressed to me how you hoped she would be able find a good guy because she deserved it. It seemed like you’d do whatever it took for her to be happy or to make sure she was okay. That meant a lot to me because that was so selfless of you. I knew you were in a relationship, but the way you opened up to me about how things were going with him on that bench that night, I wanted nothing else but to be selfless for you. Because you took me to the bridge, I took you to Waffle House. You had never been, but I told you it would change your life. Late nights at Waffle House in the upcoming months would become a tradition of ours. We made our way back to the small business your car was parked in front of. There was a Waffle House off Hillsborough street, so we went in that direction. As you were making a left onto Hillsborough, you went over a curb. We both went silent before you reassured me you weren’t a bad driver.

After Waffle House, you drove me back to my crib. You inquired if I had a curfew, but I told you my parents were cool. I returned the question and you said you told your mom you were with your best friend, so she didn’t trip. Plus, it was a weekend, so the rules were more lenient. From work to my room, to the trail, to the bridge, to the bench, to Waffle House, and back to my crib, the conversation didn’t end. There was never a moment of awkward silence or even a pause. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel something with you that night as wrong as it was. We sat in your car in front of my house talking life until 1:30am. You wanted to go to college outside of the states. You were going to major in Biology and go for your post-doc. There were so many things you were going to do. Listening to you talk about your future inspired me. You had it all figured out and I could only hope the universe was on your side.

Considering all the emotions felt that evening heading into the wee hours of the morning, it was one of the greatest nights I experienced in my adolescence. We decided when we were both half-asleep that we’d call it a night. We hugged, then I walked in the house. You waited for me to walk in the crib and I thought bitch you not supposed to wait for me to get in safely cuz you have a boyfriend, but I appreciated the gesture. Little did I know that getting my belongings back didn’t bring me any closure, instead it was finding the bridge with you that night that did.

Not only did finding the bridge close whatever it was I had open, but it was a beautiful beginning to our short-lived romance that lasted until the summer of graduation.