Yearning Over Us

To the one that stumbles upon this, this is where it all begins.

A miniature tale of two star-crossed voyagers. Their world is your stage, a rather bleak one indeed.

But since you find joy in the most mundane of things, this is your so-called form of “delight.”

And with this, we shall begin.

Oh, here she comes…

She only has herself, her memories and her dreams.

Sitting on a park bench, she watches the world spin while hers seems to have stopped.

On this cold november afternoon, the sun starts setting behind her making her silhouette glow.

Her hands are freezing and her nose and cheeks are flushed a rosy pink and yet she doesn’t want to leave.

Her eyes looking far ahead as if searching for something; or perhaps someone.

He only knew himself here.

Amidst a myriad of souls, he only knew his—or so he thought. He scans for one he knows, wishing that he’ll never set eyes on it.

He tries to find his footing. The dreaded yet hopeful thought lingered in his head. His eyes glimmer with hope, his hands almost numb.

He tries to be one with the human tide. His trench coat forbids it, making him look like a floating buoy among the black sea.

He suddenly catches sight of her. Butterflies flutter in him.

He needed to leave.

Now.

Among the abundance of bodies dancing around each other, hurrying to their workplace, their families, she skims over the masses, halting her sight on him.

His gaze already on her, his face displaying a mix of relief and shock. An expression of surprise passes over her features before softening in a light smile.

The sounds of the city appear to dim to a quiet hum; the sun, almost asleep, makes the streetlights glow a warm beam.

With her eyes still peering at him, she gets up, watching him approach her as if he was hypnotized.

His world begins to shrink.

By nature, he becomes a stranger to her. His memories of her start to resurface like mini icebergs amongst a sea of other thoughts.

“It’s you,” he said with a weary smile.

She mirrors the same line.

“15 years…”

“And you still look the same.”

The pigeons watch the spectacle unfold; passersby stop for a second to glance, but their lives hold more importance than this.

A single tear runs down her cheek, as if that tear wanted to caress her. To forgive her for making that mistake.

What more could she say?

His hand rises to her cheek as if it had a mind of its own and wipes away her regret, their regret, holding her face just like he used to.

“I thought you had left.” she whispers.

“I had no choice but to leave you my heart and go with my chest hollow,” he brings her hand to his face, pressing his lips softly to her palm, “turns out I had yours to keep me company.”

She smiles, tears brimmed her eyes.

“Indeed we never truly left each other.” she replies.

And this is where it actually begins.