Strangers Again

Strangers. Friends. Lovers. Strangers again.

It was one of those unremarkable business trips on a Friday, outbound from London to Vienna. The morning rain dazzled outside as I dragged my tired self to the Business Class lane. Throwing the Financial Times on the seat, I was putting my carry-on luggage in the overhead compartment when I noticed her doing the same on the other aisle.

It had been years since we had met or spoken. Somehow we ended up on the same flight, in the same row, just one seat apart. Perhaps it was my gaze that made her eyes meet mine too. Fortunately, thanks to the empty Business Class seat between us, there was enough room not to feel too awkward.

“How have you been?” she said, with a surprised smile.

“I’m fine, just going to Vienna.” I then realised it was a somewhat redundant remark since she was on the same flight. “Oh, I meant going there and returning on the same day. And you?”

“I’m also there for business but staying for the weekend. I got some tickets to see the Vienna Philharmonic. It will be amazing.” A sense of familiarity sparked inside me. She spoke with the same enthusiasm as years ago when we shared a love of classical music.

I was about to say something perhaps trivial, yet our conversation was interrupted by the first welcome-on-board call from the air hostess. We exchanged a brief air of courtesy and took our seats.

I settled in while the plane took off. I thought I might tune in to listen to the Vienna Philharmonic, just as she had inspired me. The sound of the quintessential classical music reminded me of our time together, years ago. It brought me back to when we were young, hopelessly romantic and free. Our innocence and naivety had not yet been tainted by the nuisance that we now called life.

As I drifted through the highs and lows of the notes, I heard a familiar voice. It was her, now sitting in the empty seat, speaking to me in a velvety tone.

“So, how have you really been? I guess you did not expect this encounter,” she said.

“Yes, I mean, it was rather surprising,” I replied, somewhat diffident, not quite expecting her to be so direct. “It has been years since we last spoke.”

“We were once strangers, then friends, then lovers, then strangers again.” She smiled. “We have not spoken for so long because we are strangers now. That fact has been rather well established for a while. Yet it is now challenged, since life forces us to be on the same two-hour flight unexpectedly. Now you are confused about how you should treat me.”

I looked at her in bewilderment. Going straight to the point was never typically her, the timid girl I once knew.

“Yes, perhaps so. I was not expecting we would meet again, hence entirely unprepared to know how to act. I am not entirely sure what the point of this is,” I muttered.

“I believe we meet again for a reason,” she said. “Perhaps I have made you reminisce about our old times. Perhaps we will speak again in Vienna and rekindle what we left behind. Or perhaps I am just a reflection of your past, here simply to show you how far you have come.” Her solemn eyes turned away from me. Her melancholy softened my psychological barrier, to the point I uttered words that did not sound like me at all.

“Hey, I am sorry for what happened years ago. I do not quite know how to respond to you now. We have grown and become different people. Actually, I am not quite sure why life made us meet in the first place many years ago, if after everything we went through we were meant to become strangers again,” I murmured.

She leaned in. “I am not the first stranger-again in your life. There are not only lovers but also friends you have left behind. All of this is just your endless search to be understood.”

“Really? Why so?” I was puzzled, intrigued and amazed, as she had never spoken like this before.

“You let people join your journey as a form of self-verification. You want to be understood by others because then you are seen and known. You feel accepted and, more so, you feel a stronger sense that you exist. Different people engage with different stages of your life to fuel this search to be understood. Some people are like a boomerang, returning to your life time and time again. However, most people are not meant to stay after they have faithfully served their purpose in your life,” she said.

I was baffled, rather speechless, while she continued.

“I was once part of what has been, and what will be, to you. Yet we diverged when we grew out of our innocence and naivety. We changed. We now have our own paths, which seem to cross from time to time. Have I shown you enough about us? Yes, but more so, I have shown you enough about you.” Her starry eyes held the depth of the night sky we once stargazed under.

“Why are you telling me all this?” I felt overwhelmed by everything she had said.

“Because now you might have learnt that there are things you think but cannot say, as stranger-again.” Her soothing voice faded into the buzzing sound of the aeroplane, as I was woken by the pilot’s announcement.

I glanced at her from a seat away. She was also peacefully asleep.