‘I Thought I Saw You Today’

Nicole Farnsley is a photographer and art director from Louisville, KY. She is pursuing a BFA in communication design from Washington University in St. Louis. Her work has been featured in various publications, including Armour Magazine and Strike St. Louis. You can see more of her work on Instagram @nickeltookit or on her website nicolefarnsley.com.

I Thought I Saw You Today

I thought I saw you today. 

Wide-eyed, hands folded behind my back, every other body in the room parting seas to frame yours like a lone buoy. 

I’d reach for the rope, I’m sure. Any other scenario, another circumstance. An instance where I’m as cocky and brave as I think I am. I’d probably reach for you to give you a faux upper hand. When you’d smile and begin to reel the tether between us back to shore, I’d rip it to frayed ligaments with my teeth. 

If this were a comedy, I’d let you know that I thought I saw you today, but you just looked like any other white guy. Which, sure, is true. But I guess I was too winded and blurry-eyed to find it funny. 

Same shoulder length hair and shade. Similar shitty posture, same height and build. Less similar clothes, but who’s to say there wasn’t some special occasion? 

I thought I saw you today, and normally, I’d be ecstatic. Maybe some poor fishing rod’s bobber would be pushed aside, away from any fish, so I could swallow the path in front of me whole. I’d hold my breath with the water dancing between my teeth. It’d be faster to run across the room to you with a dry seafloor. 

But I thought I saw you today, not any other day in the past. Today, for a split second, I thought you weren’t just ‘any other white guy’; that it was, in fact, you. So, today, I wanted the sea to kill me. 

I thought I saw you today, and I knew that didn’t make any sense. Across state lines, and for what? I knew it couldn’t be you. But in some odd contradiction to myself, I wanted it to be true, and yet I also hoped it was just another generic man who happened to fit your mold. 

It was. I thought I saw you today, but I didn’t. When he turned around, his eyebrows furrowed in a swirl of pity and confusion. I almost defied reality and spoke to him clearly with no voice. I almost asked, “When did this become easy for you?” 

I swear, if I had seen you today, that cookie-cutter guy would’ve replied, 

“The first time you didn’t notice that I stopped baiting the hook.” 

Olivia Kral is a New England-based artist, poet, and token ‘lesbian with a Subaru’. When not in an existential crisis, you'll find her researching the history of a niche topic or replaying a CD for the 12th time in a row. Connect with her @oliviagkral