Sorry, English is not my first lenguage but I just wanted to write in English, idk why.
I was
sitting outside the
café, in the nearest table to the door. It was raining heavily, but I still sat
outside, I wasn’t sure why.
I was
reading the Third Chapter of one of my books when he arrived, soaking wet and
smiling, showing those marvellous dimples that had made me blush a year ago. I
had thought that he wouldn’t show up, but to contrary belief he was standing in
front of me, staring.
I didn’t
know what to say, I was in a bit of a shock, actually. Instead of saying hello,
I just said “You remembered” and he nodded shyly, still with his big emerald
eyes looking right at me.
The
memories of the last – and first – time we saw each other were a bit blurry,
but I still can hear the loud noise coming from the café, the sound of laughter
and love and everything else that I couldn’t do.
I also
remember how he asked politely “May I sit with you?” and I just said yes, only
because of his warm smile that reminded me of home somehow.
Both of the
weeks we lived were wild. I felt happy, sad, in love, reckless, free but
overall… I felt alive. Alive like never before because Harry was one of the
most amazing human beings that I had ever met and he made me feel so many
things. He was just like a tornado, turning my world upside down. And his hands
were like guns, and with every kiss he pulled the trigger creating holes in me
that – I should have known – I was not able to fix.
And then I
had to say goodbye.
I told him
that I would come back, that I wouldn’t just forget everything because for the
first time in my life I felt something. I wasn’t numb anymore and I was ready
to love everything as much as I’d loved Harry.
He was
special. He used to take pictures when we were together, with and old Polaroid
that he took everywhere. He used to take pictures of me when we were just lying
on the floor of his flat listening to old records of unknown bands on his
record player. He used to touch me like if I was just about to break, and he
would just stare at me, saying – like an excuse – that he just wanted to
remember me as much as he could, because you can’t remember how you really feel
by just looking at some photos. He just liked everything and everyone with a
fiery passion that – at first – I couldn’t understand. Until I did.
“My life is
fucking bullshit, you know? I’m fucked up and so is everyone aroud me. So… I
just focus on the small things, on those little things that make me happy. Like
the sound of someone unwrapping a present and the light in their eyes when they
like it. Or the way couples hold hands and how they feel, as if the time had
stopped around them and they were in their own little world. That’s… that’s how
I feel when I’m with you. Silly, isn’t it?”
And now he
was there, beaming at me with a grin that filled me with warmth. He was like
the sun, he was my sun and I just moved to his direction like a sunflower.
“It’s been
a year but I waited for you” my breath got stuck on my throat.
“You weren’t
here yesterday.” I said and he looked at the ground. “It doesn’t matter,
though. You’re here now and I…” He grinned at me again, a cheeky grin this
time.
“… and I
just want to kiss you” He finished my sentence. And that wasn’t what I wanted
to say but… he wasn’t lying anyway.
