[ WP ] You swear that you keep seeing the same woman in blue every time you go on family vacation , when you turn 18 , you are introduced to her .

She never aged. And she was always wearing that same dress - blue and black with a crescent moon made of clear stones across the bodice. That's why I thought I was dreaming all those times. That's why I thought it was n't real. 
 
 `` This is Via. She likes your glasses.'' 
 
 Candice smirked, leaning back from the bar, opening a space in the dim light for *her* to appear. The woman in the blue dress. Via. 
 
 `` Pleasure,'' said Via, extending a hand across the chasm. Her face was closed. There was no familiarity there. I was a stranger. *We* were strangers. Though we were n't. 
 
 `` I'm sorry, you look so familiar,'' I said, smiling, heart thumping. `` Have we met do you think?'' 
 
 She shook her head. `` I'm not from here,'' she said. `` I ca n't imagine.'' 
 
 `` She's a traveler,'' said Candice. `` Just visiting. She's my bar buddy.'' 
 
 There was nothing strange in Candice befriending a stranger at the bar. That was her lifeblood. She drew energy from the newness of life and unexpected relationships. She was also a notorious philanderer. That she was trying to pass Via off to me meant her new playmate did n't play the same games she did. 
 
 `` Where are you from?'' I asked, leaning in, making an effort to inconvenience Candice. 
 
 Via gestured broadly. `` Another time. Another place.'' 
 
 `` You sound Italian,'' I said. `` Are you Italian?'' 
 
 She smiled. `` Sure.'' 
 
 `` What are you here for?'' 
 
 A shrug, almost bored. `` To see, I suppose.'' 
 
 Candice took the hint and bugged off to the other end of the bar. I snatched her seat. Via did n't seem to mind. At least, she did n't leave. I ordered us each a martini - a nice, middle of the road sort of drink - and looked at her again. Maybe she was n't the woman I'd seen all those years, I started to think. She was still so *young*, after all. Long, narrow nose ending in a tiny nub. Brown, sun-baked skin and long black hair swept behind her ears. Green eyes. 
 
 It was the green eyes - that was the detail I could n't get past. I remembered those eyes and that dress. That combination. That was how I had come to remember her and mark her every time. In Disney World at 8 years old, in Spain at 12, at the Grand Canyon at 13, in Hawaii at 15, in Ireland at 17. That dress and those eyes. 
 
 `` This is going to sound like a really strange and terrible pick-up line,'' I said, `` but I've *seen* you before. Many times. All these places I went with my family, growing up - I saw you there. But...'' I kept waiting for her to roll her eyes or excuse herself and walk away, but she was listening. She was interested. `` But you always looked like this,'' I said. `` Like you do this very moment. That's why I thought you looked familiar. I swear... I've seen you before.'' 
 
 She nodded. `` Were these important moments?'' 
 
 I was n't sure how to answer that. It was n't the question I expected. `` I suppose. They were family vacations. It was good *and* bad. Lot of fun, but also annoying and agitating. You know how it is with family. You love each other and you drive each other crazy.'' 
 
 `` I see,'' she said. `` That's interesting. And I was there?'' 
 
 `` I swear. Or it's all just the damnedest case of deja vu ever. Kinda weird, right?'' 
 
 `` I suppose it is,'' she said, taking a slow sip of her martini. `` But it sounds interesting.'' 
 
 `` Yeah,'' I said, draining my glass and suddenly feeling very self-conscious. She was a beautiful woman, after all, and I only then realized how weird I was being. `` The brain's a strange thing.'' 
 
 `` I meant your vacations,'' she said. `` Do you still go on vacations with your family?'' 
 
 I snorted. `` Uh, no. We sorta aged out of that. And uh, my mom died a couple years ago, so... you know, she was the one who pulled it all together.'' 
 
 `` Would you show me?'' said Via. `` I think it's something I'd like to see.'' 
 
 `` Show you... what?'' I asked. 
 
 `` These vacations,'' said Via. `` When I was there. Where you remember me. Could we see them?'' 
 
 `` I do n't understand,'' I said. I considered the possibility that she was mocking me. It can be hard to tell sometimes with foreigners. `` You want to look at pictures or something? I do n't have any family vacation photos with me, but I guess...'' 
 
 Via stood up off her barstool. `` No. Where I've already been. I want to see what I'm meant to see. Show me.'' 
 
 She took my hands. She was much stronger than she'd seemed. We walked out of the bar together. Candice smiled and waved from a dark corner, cradling a beer in one hand and what looked like an art student in the other. I let Via lead me away, though I was scared. She was strange. And I was strange. And I had no idea what we were about to do. 
 
 Out in the warm August night, she pulled me into a secluded spot just off the parking lot and held my shoulders in her hands. 
 
 `` Where was I first? The first time you saw me?'' 
 
 I blinked. `` Disney World. But I really... that might be my mind playing tricks.'' 
 
 Via shook her head. `` It's not a trick. It's something we should see. Close you eyes and think about it. That moment. That place. That time. Think and *see*. Do you see? Is it there? Good, good! Open your eyes.'' 
 
 I did as I was told. And we were there. In Disney World. In 1989. Everything was neon and plastic and fanny packs as far as the eye could see. 
 
 And there *we* were. My family. My father and mother, yelling and jabbing fingers at a paper map. Bobby, half-comatose and sticky with churro. Kelsie, whining at no one in particular, pointing at a lumbering, giant squirrelman three blocks away. And me - staring back at me. No, not me. I was looking at Via. The beautiful woman in the blue dress who'd come out of nowhere. The blue dress with the crescent moon made of a clear stones. The beautiful woman with green eyes. 
 
 My father started walking away. My mother reached back and grabbed the younger me by the strap of my green tank top. So I turned and marched away, next to Bobby and Kelsie. 
 
 `` It's an interesting place,'' said Via, watching as me and my family disappeared into the swarming crowd. `` You had fun here?'' 
 
 I nodded, dazed. `` Kelsie threw up on Thunder Mountain. It was great.'' 
 
 `` Thank you for sharing,'' said Via. `` Where else did you see me?'' 
 
 I did n't understand it. I still do n't. But what happened happened. We traveled. All the places Via had been, Via went. I witnessed history making itself. And I remembered - remembered the man who was always nearby the woman in the blue dress, always looking perplexed and lost. I remembered how unremarkable that man was in comparison to the woman in the blue dress. And I could see the young me learning to un-see the older me. I only had eyes for Via back then. 
 
 `` Why did you do this?'' I asked Via, as we stood in Wicklow, watching my family escape the rain by dashing into a pub. 
 
 `` Because I had done it,'' she said, taking my hand and pressing it to her face. `` You've seen my relationship with time. It's a bit tenuous. And now... I go where I've gone, in the hopes that being where I've been will tell me what I knew or show me what I've seen. I've been to that bar. I've met you. I've followed you backwards through time. I've seen you age. And I've seen you age further. I've seen you through your end. So I'll do that again. To see what I've seen and learn what I've learned.'' 
 
 She pulled the glasses off my face, wiping away the raindrops with the hem of her dress. 
 
 `` I love you,'' she said. `` Not yet. But somewhere in all this, I love you. And you love me. I just do n't know when. And I've forgotten how. And I ca n't see why. But I will. And you will. Until then, I'll just keep traveling. Okay?'' 
 
 I said, `` Okay,'' but it was n't. Because I *did* love her, even if I did n't quite know why or how. It was as if I had been waiting all my life, so very, very patiently for her to show up at that bar. And then she did. And we traveled. I knew all too well how much I loved her. 
 
 But she did not come back with me from Ireland in 2009. I do n't know where she went. I just know that she is retracing her steps, hoping to find answers. 
 
 The trouble, of course, is that if she did come back to me, I would be no help. I do n't have any answers. Why does she love me? I do n't know. I ca n't even adequately explain why I love her. I do because I feel I'm meant to - as if my love is the final machination of some monstrously complex, decades long Rube Goldberg device. 
 
 So I wait. I hope she finds her answers. I hope she comes back to me. 
 
 And every day I look, look for my lady in a blue dress.
