He first saw her on the train.
It was only for a moment, a few short seconds before she was engulfed in the incoming rush of people. She looked very similar to how he remembered her- hair long and straight, daft fashion sense with far too much pink- but her face was older. Wiser. She was reading a paperback as she walked, her eyes never looking left or right. He remembered her reading as they walked together under the streetlights, swaying slightly as she fought to keep her balance, giggling against his chest.
It was only for a moment, but his world had already shattered.
He began to see her everywhere. In a billboard, blue eyes staring mockingly at him. In a café, hair making a shiny brown curtain for her face. At a bus stop, her rose perfume rising tantalizingly above the stench of traffic.
"Dude, are you sure you're okay?" Sam's voice barely penetrated through the fog enveloping his brain. They were sitting in his apartment having a couple of beers after work. "You've been kind of…out of it."
"I keep seeing her, Sam. Everywhere I go, no matter what I do, I keep seeing her. It's like she's haunting me or something."
A pause.
"She's gone, you know," Sam said.
"And you don't think I know that?"
Dude, I know you know. But why are you seeing her now? It's already been what, like three months?"
"Three months, two weeks and five days." It came out as a whisper.
Sam slammed his beer on the coffee table, amber liquid splashing out and running down the sides. "You're being stupid. You had all that time to go after her, and you just sat there. Complaining about how she left you, like it wasn't your own fault. And now, when she's finally moved on, you're being all melodramatic!"
"I know."
***
He began having nightmares again. They would leave him sitting bolt-upright in bed, sweating and shaking. He would hear her voice-the voice that had haunted him through college, the voice that made him both the happiest and the saddest guy in the world- in his head, screaming. Crying. Telling him that it was over, she just couldn't take it anymore. Doors slamming. Their picture, taken at the Bronx Zoo when they were both on break, falling to the floor and shattering.
***
"We're letting you go."
He looked confusedly at his boss Debra. Deb didn't look like her. The hair was all wrong, for one thing. Too short, and too blonde. And her eyes weren't blue. They were brown.
"Can you hear me?"
His eyes refocused. "Yeah, yeah, you're letting me go. I heard that."
"We just think you need a bit of a break. You've seemed very distracted these days. That last game was the worst, I'm afraid-you hit three goals for the other team, for god's sake!" She steered him expertly to the door. "Please-just get some sleep. We'll see how you are then."
"Okay."
***
He saw her again as he was crossing the street. She was wearing a pink coat, and her hair was in a long braid that reached the small of her back. She didn't see him. He began walking after her, pushing his way through the crowd of shoppers. A taxi suddenly pulled in front of him, and he nearly fell over. Cursing, he got back on his feet, but she was already gone.
***
He usually never called Lizzie. Since he moved to New York he slowly lost touch with his family except for Marti. The last time he talked to her, she had mentioned Lizzie was in Vancouver attending a conference on environmentalism. A smirk graced his lips for the first time in weeks. MacDonalds were SO predictable.
"Hello?"
Lizzie's voice-so familiar and yet so alien-sent his mind into overdrive, letting memories overflow his mind. Lizzie trying so hard to learn hockey, Lizzie with her first boyfriend, Lizzie watching Tv.
"Hello?" She was starting to sound suspicious; perhaps he had better answer.
"Hey-Hey sis, it's me."
"Oh My God." She sounded shocked. "How are you? I haven't talked to you since forever, we get all our information from Marti…What's up? I something wrong?"
"What? No, Lizzie, nothing wrong, I just, um…" His throat had closed up. He coughed and tried again.
"I was wondering…um, have you-have you heard from Casey?"
A pause.
"Not really," Lizzie answered. "I think she's SM-ing a show in Toronto. She doesn't call much. Hasn't since—"
She stopped guiltily, and he closed his eyes as another wave of emotion washed over him.
"Are you sure, Lizzie? Is there any chance at all she could be in New York?"
"I-Maybe…I told you, she doesn't talk to me much anymore." Lizzie replied. To her credit, she sounded truly sorry she couldn't help.
"Okay, thanks anyway." He sighed.
"…Okay…Just call us once in a while, all right? We all thought you had died or something."
***
He didn't see her again for several months. He tried calling anyone who might have known where she went-Sam, Emily, Sally, Marti. He even tried Lizzie again who was considerably less helpful than before.
"For the last time, NO! I have no idea where she is! Now stop calling me every day and find her yourself!"
He began calling theater companies in Toronto, asking for her. None knew where she was, or had even heard of her. It was as though she had dropped off the face of the earth, never to be heard from again.
He began drinking. It seemed to him that when he drank, she was nearer. Closer. After three drinks, he could feel her hand on the door. And when he was so drunk he couldn't stand, when he vision was clouding over and he could feel himself falling to the floor, she was standing in front of him, smiling, her hand held out, waiting for him.
He never got his job back. They didn't seem to want him. Everyone started avoiding him. Eventually even Sam wouldn't come by. He would sit, alone except for the bottle of vodka, and call her name out into the empty rooms.
***
It was a cold November day, two years later, when he saw her again. He was walking home from the local bar, staggering slightly under the rushing wind. Everyone was walking rapidly by, hoping to get home before the roads became too dangerous. Snow was beginning to fall.
A flash of pink caught his eye. Turing to get a closer look, he saw her standing in the snow, staring at him with a strange expression on her face. His heart thudded painfully. She looked so beautiful under the street lights, her hair glowing golden. He stepped toward her.
"Casey-"
She turned quickly and began to walk away. He began to run, staggering slightly from the alcohol.
"Casey!"
She stopped and looked at him, her eyes glinting in the fast-consuming dark.
"Please stop."
And then she left, leaving him alone under the lights.
He never saw her again.
And eventually?
He stopped looking.