I’m standing at a cross walk waiting for the light to turn green. A double-decker bus races past. I catch my reflection in the window.
How has it been four years.
I look taller.
Less sad eyes.
Yet more reasons to be sad. How does that work?
The light turns green. I walk quickly into the underground. The dust of the day hits my face, I slide my card across the sensor, as though I’ve done this a thousand times. Maybe that’s why people always ask me for directions – I look like I know where I’m headed.
I hop on the train after descending the 78 steps to the platform. My stop comes quickly and before I know it I’m climbing the steps back up to the light.
She’s waiting for me at the cafe. If we were to press rewind, it would have been the other way around. She is early. This makes me smile.
Bear hugs are exchanged.
Five minutes into our walk to the pub, she exclaims, “It doesn’t feel like any time has passed!”
Yet, it has.
Not in her or I’s connection, but in that reflection I saw in the bus window.
It showcases itself in the tiny details.
I can keep my eyes happy, even if I’m sad, as my heart itself knows happiness. This has only come through the comfort of being truly loved.
I know I’m worth it, and I didn’t know this before.
I know it’s not my fault for things beyond my control.
And in the million other different ways he changed me.
Today you learned?