When I got home that day, one of the summer RAs had taped an envelope to my door with a note that said, Way to go, Matt! I had told her all about Matt’s internship since she was a photography major at Tisch, plus I was always checking in with her to find out if Matt had called.
I opened it up to find an article from a photography magazine. The cover was a photograph of Matt taking a picture of a woman taking a photograph of herself in a mirror. The headline said, “The Beauty Behind the Camera.”
I swallowed hard and tried to fight the nausea as I read all about the young, beautiful Elizabeth Hunt, who was making a huge name for herself at National Geographic. And then, at the very end, I read three sentences that changed the course of my life forever.
Hunt points out that her partnership with Matthias Shore, a promising young talent who recently emerged from New York University’s Tisch School of the Arts, has proven to be a fruitful union. Their next assignment includes a six-month expedition off the coast of Australia, exploring the Great Barrier Reef and the Great White shark’s breaching behavior while hunting. “Matt and I are thrilled about this opportunity and excited to take our partnership to the next level,” Hunt said.
We were so young, and life was already offering so many twists and turns. But did I have to accept what I had just read without arguing my case?
No way.
I immediately called Aletha in a daze. “Hello, Aletha, it’s Grace.”
“So good to hear from you, dear. How are you? Everything okay?”
“Fine,” I said with little emotion. “I wondered if you had heard from Matt?”
“Oh, yes sweetie, I just talked to him yesterday.”
I was gutted. Why hadn’t he called me? I was practically sleeping by the phone in the lounge. “You did? What did he say?”
“Oh, we’re all so proud of Matt. He’s really making a name for himself in such a short time.”
“Yes, I’ve heard,” I said, somewhat icily.
“Nothing can slow down Matt’s career, and his father is so proud of him. You know what that means to Matt.”
“Oh, wonderful.” My voice was shrinking by the second. “Did he mention me by any chance?”
“He said if anyone asks, to let them know that he’s okay.”
Anyone?
“Well . . . I guess if you hear from him in the next couple of days, will you ask him to call me?”
“Yes of course, Grace. He’s been calling every week, so I’ll let him know.”
Oh, he has, has he?
I hung up with Aletha and ran back to my room, barely able to comprehend all the new information I had just learned. Elizabeth Hunt . . . Australia for six months . . . Weekly phone calls with his mom . . .
Three more days went by, with still no word from Matt. I dragged myself out of bed, too tired to cry and too sad to eat. I went to the lounge and called Tati.
“Hello?”
“It’s Grace.”
“Hey, how are you?”
“Can you come over?”
“I’ll be there in a bit.” She could hear the pain in my voice.
She came thundering into my room fifteen minutes later. I held the article about Matt and Elizabeth out to her. She read it to herself. All she did was shake her head and offer me a cigarette.
“I’m okay, Tati.”
“Don’t overreact, Grace,” she said.
“I’m not overreacting.” By then I had stopped crying. “Just let Dan know I’m in. I’m going on tour with you guys.”
Tati grinned back at me. “Good. You won’t regret it.”
Third Movement:
Now, Fifteen Years Later
20. You Remembered . . .
Grace
The present is our own. The right-this-second, the here-and-now, this moment before the next, is ours for the taking. It’s the only free gift the universe has to offer. The past doesn’t belong to us anymore, and the future is just a fantasy, never guaranteed. But the present is ours to own. The only way we can realize that fantasy is if we embrace the now.
I had been closed off for a long time, and I hadn’t allowed myself to imagine the future because I was still stuck in the past. Though it was impossible, I had tried to re-create what Matt and I once had. I wanted nothing else; he was all I could imagine.
But Orvin once told me that time is the currency of life. And I had lost so much of it. It was that idea of lost time that finally made me realize I needed to move on, that I would never have what I once had with Matt. I had to mourn our relationship and move on.
At least, that’s what I told myself.
Two months ago I was walking around in a thick fog of regret. I was going through the motions but I wasn’t feeling anything. I’d stare at my new wrinkles in the mirror and wonder where they came from. I wasted more time, repeating the same thing day in and day out, barely present in my own life. I wasn’t looking to break out of the cycle in search of anything meaningful.
Until I saw Matt in the subway station.