Member Bio: Adam Alfsen
Self-portrait sketched by Adam Alfsen
Elley
By Adam Alfsen
I see before me, a paper filled with images of people from many nations and cultures. There is a woman who was loved, or at least, strongly desired; and a man who held back his desire because she was of another culture and color. Now, in the steady rainfall, the paper has become wet, the figures upon it blended and more numerous, some pushing toward the foreground and some to the back, until finally, the colors which had been so separate begin to blend.
Still before my eyes, there is a man: an artist by inclination, though not profession, sitting in one of the passenger seats of an airplane flying over the boundless ocean. As he sits there, his gaze is fixed on the waves far below, seemingly trying to penetrate their scintillating appearance, while his heart reflects upon the remains of another now-concluded chapter in the book of his own personal story. Returning time and again to his briefcase and the letter, he ponders what might be enclosed. It was a parting shot from his last girlfriend and he had never opened it, though he knew what was probably inside: a barrage of vindictive remarks, which he didn’t feel ready to face. Yet, he’d kept the letter with him because he knew he should read it.
He owed her that much. And now that he thought of it, life seemed to be full of letters like that; which, for one reason or another, he’d never really opened. Instead, he was looking over an old paper of the day, checking out anything and everything that might be of importance once he landed.
Thus, before he knew it, another hour or so had passed and land was now in sight. What an enchanting view; it was as if he could reach out with his arms and encompass the whole world. Soon, this world would grow smaller for John, as the giant plane first began losing altitude, then slowly started gliding down, like a big bird, from it’s perch in the sky, down toward one of the runways at Sidney airport. How far he had come for this excursion, yet, in spite of the distance, he knew that the pain of Elley would not be so easily vanquished.
John had broken up with his girl after an on-and-off relationship of several years. It had been cold, then hot, or hot then cold, but seldom in-between; till finally, there was the big blow up in a restaurant and the realization that they just weren’t meant for each other. But, realizing something with the mind was not the same as fixing things emotionally. It had been almost a year now and part of him still felt hopelessly lost without her.
In an inner twilight of the soul, how can one possibly verbalize something that is essentially above and beyond mere words. John had to give himself a little bit of space. He had to somehow find that lost part of his inner self. He had to comfort it, to heal it and to reclaim it. Then, perhaps, he could open the letter and face the music.
Coming down out of the plane and through customs, he found himself hustling and bustling,
this way and that, looking for luggage and checking things. Was this, or that, transferred? Did it all get here or would some of it come later? Next, came the problems of hailing a taxi, getting into town and finding a room for the night. John stayed a few days at a small hotel before finding an upstairs room rented on a weekly basis where a kindly old lady showed him a common bathroom and shared kitchenette.
The next morning, he rose early and took a long walk through a local park and found a small eatery. It was a beautiful, sunny day, much like he’d imagined most days were in Australia. Some birds were singing in the trees and music played over a radio as small groups of what he assumed were locals, gathered to chat and discuss the issues of the day. He sat there for two hours, watching people come and go. People certainly seemed to love to discuss anything and everything, but John was a little different. He enjoyed the continual mix and found that just sitting by himself, while listening to others or watching them come and go or pass by outside, was sort of like reading a book.
Afterward, John decided to check out some of the local tourist sites and interspersed his trips with long ambles through areas of the city. One evening, still in the first week of his visit, he found himself strolling through one of the older business sections of Sidney. An impulse to turn down a side street, led him onto another avenue and then back again to another side street. A strange feeling and sense of urgency grew. It was like being drawn along unfamiliar paths towards a distant, longed-for location where something or someone was awaiting. Then, walking along one of the streets, he came upon a spot from which emanated that familiar sound of voices and music associated with open stage bars and coffee shops.
Interestingly, the place had an atmosphere vaguely similar to the place where he had often gone with his old sweetheart. Perhaps all coffee shops are like that but, in any case, John felt immediately comfortable in an old, familiar atmosphere; so much so that he went in, bought a drink and sat down.
At the far end of the place was a stage, with mikes and stands, where customers could come up to play, either as individuals or in groups. The evening had just started and customers were getting up to perform. First, there were a couple of guitarists playing in an off-the-cuff way, followed by a woman with a rather strong voice. When she was finished, another approached the stage. John looked, then looked again, because it was almost as if he could see his girlfriend in that young woman’s face.
When she had finally finished her playing, she sat down not far away and John introduced himself. They talked on for some time and remarkably, she even had the same first name as his old girl, but she already had a boyfriend of her own, so he didn’t pursue matters any further.
That night, John finally rolled into bed well after midnight and when he woke the next morning, he almost wondered if it had all been a dream. So many of the negative things that had lingered from his former relationship seemed to have evaporated. He felt as if he’d been given a chance to talk to his old sweetheart fresh like the first day they’d met, but without the hang-ups of a damaged past. Was this what some might call “synchronicity?” Perhaps, for everyone in the world, there is a twin somewhere that looks just like you and may even have had some of the same experiences in life. Well, John felt he had just run into a mirror-reflection of his old girlfriend and he’d had the opportunity of getting to know her again like she’d been on the first day they’d met. Casting off all the bad experiences they’d gone through, he was able to reconnect in some way to the person he’d once known.
Now, at last, he was ready to open the letter he’d kept for so long in his briefcase. He reached in and opened it…
Dear Johnathan,
“You never really knew how much I loved you. How could things have gone so wrong?”…
John read the letter through, and as his eyes filled with tears, he began his reply…
Dear Elley,
“We were never meant for each other, but I want you to know right now that… I loved you too.”