What if ten years from now, I run into you in a cafe? My heart races and my palms sweat, I am overwhelmed by everything I wanted to say you, the words never make it to my tongue. Your hair is longer than you’ve ever worn it before. The perfume which was like meadows is still the same. But you still bite your lip when you’re deep in thought and your midnight black eyes still narrow down to slits when you smile.
What if ten years from now? I tell you that I have a drawer full of postcards I wrote to you from every place I went to, and everyday for the last ten years, I’ve been sighing over my morning brew because coffee never makes me feel as heady as the taste of your cappuccino stained lips do.
I want to kiss you. I want to hold your hand. I want to feel your arms around me and also I want to feel your silence. I still have your laughter spilling out of your pockets taking brakes in between, the sound of you saying my name still rings in my ears; wishing that you’de grab my arm when we are walking down the street on a chilly winter night.
It’s unfair that we didn’t had more time, that we only got a few hours. But you know I wouldn’t trade those hours for the world. I love you so much I cannot fathom a sentence that would explain to what extent.
What if ten years from now? You say that you still dream of me sometimes, that happiness is simply a kind of decision and that no complication we’d ever come across compares to that of not being with each other. And then who knows what will happen. Every story have a happy ending.