But it wasn't a stranger.
As I caught sight of your dark hair, your ochre eyes, that gentle face that I once knew so well, a million memories flew through my mind in a frenzy.
The first time I ever saw you, in that church hall. Leaning against the wall, laughing. That sweet laugh that sounded like summer time. The first time you kissed me, in the elevator. Your hand leaving my back for just a moment to push a button. And the elevator froze, somewhere between the third and fourth floors. That day at the beach, your body pressed against mine and the waves crashing over us. The warmth of the fire and the blue flames. Our last goodbye, the finality of my words lingering on my tongue alongside the taste of you. The aching in the pit of my stomach for years after you left.
And then I realized that I was staring at you. Fourteen years later, one thousand miles closer, two seats over, you were right in front of me. I looked away quickly, my eyes immediately wanting to look back.
I risked one more glance. Taking in the sight of you, typing away furiously on a laptop. You looked older. Your once lanky frame looked thicker, your hair was darker. The youthful light in your eyes, gone.
But you were the same. The same boy I loved so naively and completely. Here you were.
I heard your laptop snap shut, and you took a deep breath. I turned back once more, and you were looking in my direction.
No, not looking. Staring. Your eyes were filled with disbelief and after a while, you broke into a grin.
You laughed, and it made my stomach lurch.
"No way." You spoke softly.
I laughed, too. "I guess it really is a small world, after all."
You just stared at me. Probably remembering all the things I had a moment before. Then you stood up, and took my hand.
"Coffee." You smiled.
We spent my three hour layover talking and laughing, reminiscing and catching up. And then we boarded the same plane. Coincidentally our assigned seats were right next to each other. We landed in the place where it all began, and you canceled your hotel reservation.
You've been here, at my apartment, for the past three weeks. It seems that your house hunting has been put on the backburner. It looks like you might stay awhile, which would be fine with me.
I'd forgotten. I'd forgotten how in love with you I was, I am. Don't let me forget again.
This.........actually made me cry. not because it's beautiful, well that too, but because that I realize that falling so madly and utterly in love with someone is not a human right, it's just...luck. and THAT made me cry. I am very afraid that because of the way I protect myself or doesn't let anybody get to close, are screwing myself over. One does not have a warranty for love, can only hope that it will happen...BUT while waiting, I'm planning to do as much crazy fucked up shit as possible. I can not promise you or myself that love, described as above will happen, but remember this; If you need to talk or whatever, I will be there, trying my best. Always.
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