5 years. It was enough time to mending broken heart. Glued every piece into a mismatch soul.
Suddenly he was there and smiled at me. Shook all of my hard work. Just shook it, not unnecessary crumbled it into dust.
I wish.
`
“I am sorry. I was wrong.”
Wrong? Which one did he wrong? For broken me up, not get in touch with me for years or suddenly appeared without announcement?
“Okay.” I grabbed my bag, ready to leave. But he placed his hand on top of mine. Stopped me from went anywhere.
“I need to tell you something. Please, listen to me.” He was begging to me. In ten years I knew him—include 5 years after our breakup, I never hear him begging, not even once. It was my place to plead and forgive.
“Go on.” I drew my hand from him and focused my eyes on it.
“Taken you for granted, breaking you up and stop talking to you was wrong. But my biggest mistake is made us believe that moving forward was the answer and promise you that everything gonna be better. For all I’ve done, I am sorry.”
“I have forgiven you for a long time ago.”
“For how long?” he looked surprised.
“From the moment you said your goodbye.” Yeah, it’s been too long. Too long until it didn’t hurt anymore. Meeting with him didn’t inflict any pain. But filling my heart with hopes. Like a gentle breeze whisper a promise of rain to the tree.
“I am sorry that I hurt you.”
“You don’t hurt me that bad. Taken for granted, false hopes, misdirection signal, unrequited affection, I am familiar with all of that.” The thing is I was far too understanding.
“I made you cry. At least I am that bad.” And he looked like he means it.
Taken a trip back to memory lane was never done any good at my head. “Please stop bring back bad memories. It gave a bitter taste in my mouth.”
“Sorry.”
“And stop apologizing. I’ve forgiven you.” He needed to stop. Heard a recurrence sorry reduced the meaning of an apology.
“Will you met me again in the future?”
“I don’t know.” Ten minutes of this reunion couldn’t help me made a decision.
“Where would you be tomorrow? At 5 p.m.”
“Running around my complex.”
“Okay then. See you around.” He smirked. Like he was planning something behind my back and I falling innocently on his traps.
`
Since then, he always everywhere. Gave me juice after I ran, bought me a cup of ice cream after lunch, met me in the bookstore, accompanied me in the garage, assisted my weekly shopping. Until one afternoon I blurted my question. “What do you want from me?”
He released a relieved sigh like my question unburdens his shoulder from thousand mountains. Like he waited for this question years before. “Whatever you’re still willing to give.”
“I don’t know if I have anything to give you.” Oh damn, a realization struck me like a cold water. He just needs to ask, and I’ll give everything he wants. Suddenly a shiver runs through my spine. Instinctively I hug myself.
A worried look flashing on his face. “You don’t need to give me anything for now. I know you’re scared.”
I hate it when he was right. Even though I have forgiven him, I never open my heart to anyone. I was scared to let my hopes up and crashing down in a second.
He draped his jacket around my body. Trying to stop me from shivering. “But it would be nice to see your smile again.”
He gives me a heart warming smiles and I couldn’t help to reciprocate. All he needs is ask.
