BUTTERFLIES

CHAPTER ZERO

PREFACE:
When I had started this story, I had planned for Lena and Mari to go their separate ways at the end, and so it would be. About halfway through, however, I started toying with the idea of them reuniting when Mari eventually returns to Copenhagen. I wrote this chapter to mimic their meet-cute in the very first chapter, to reignite their story from the beginning again (hence the name CHAPTER ZERO). As romantic a notion that is, I think the original ending is more accurate. I think part of the beauty of their relationship lies in its impermanence. Nonetheless, I wrote this chapter and don't think it's half bad, so for anyone who wants to imagine the could-be, I give you this. Do you agree that the story is better off left where it is, or do you like this addendum?

***

(ONE YEAR LATER)

Everything felt rushed. I was moving what felt like my entire life to Copenhagen in less than 24 hours and I still felt underpacked. Everytime I did a deep clean of my room like this, I always ended up sitting on the floor reading my old journals. This time, I pulled out my Copenhagen box. Inside was a black notebook, full of scraps and remnants and entries from my time there, the candle from my apartment, a couple rolls of film, among many other little notes, knick knacks, a bracelet, we had shared. We.

I pulled the candle out to light it, and was instantly transported. I haven't smelled that scent since Copenhagen. The scent carried with it a memory. It struck me with a not-quite-nostalgia, for it hasn't been long enough for a longing that old. Something younger, yet in many ways deeper, more paralyzing, more steeped in emotion. There was an utter neutrality in the scent, neither happy nor sad, just overwhelming. I closed my eyes and inhaled, and though a tear rolled down my cheek, I couldn't help but smile.

It smelled like skateboards and denim.

Like rolls of film and 2 a.m.

Like the clothes we shared.

Like "I have a secret I want to tell you."

Like kissing.

Like my skin on your skin.

Like butterflies.

Like longing and belonging.

Like sadness, because I was alone in my room and you were miles away.

Like jealousy, jealous of who we used to be, and where you are now.

Like mornings at the kitchen table, the room aglow with sunlight and this very candle's own flame, filling the air with this familiar scent that, unaware, permeated the pages of my journal and my memory.

Like love, loving so hard it hurts.

Like falling in love but love simultaneously falling apart.

***

My flight left in the afternoon. The ticket on my phone said I had a layover at ATL before the final destination of CPH, but I felt airport abbreviations depersonalized cities. Made them mere paper towns rather than bustling, living, breathing places.

I was nervous, not just because of what Copenhagen was to me, but also for my new job and the obstacles of moving to another country.

Am I doing this for the wrong reasons?  I asked myself. No, Copenhagen has always been the plan, regardless of where she is. I'm going here for myself and my future. Copenhagen has always been it for me. 

And that was true, but nonetheless, I had kept my word to her.

***

I walked into the coffeeshop I had always gone to in Copenhagen. I told myself I was going because I wanted to go somewhere familiar for my first day. Not because I wanted to run into her. But I waited, a little while longer than I would have if I had really just been there to get a drink and breathe the fresh Scandi air.

The chime on the door rang as it opened. I looked over as I had for every single other customer that had come in the past hour, but this time, I felt something I hadn't felt in a year. I was struck by an overwhelming wave of butterflies.

She had cut her hair a couple centimeters shorter but looked the same. Her simple black t-shirt hung effortlessly off her shoulders. I realized I had not a single clue what she had done in the past year, besides the glimpses I got when I accidentally clicked on her Instagram story, which I had been trying to avoid. She's probably changed, I certainly have, I thought.

I stood up from where I was standing to grab a napkin and her attention. I pretended to busy myself with the water pitcher as I filled a cup.

"Hi," I heard from behind me. I immediately turned around and was met by a familiar gaze.

"Hi," I said. I wasn't sure if I was supposed to sound happy. I felt nervous all over again.

"You're back," she smiled.

My breathing eased with her smile. "I am."

"How are you?"

"I'm really happy," I said, which was the truth. I had graduated and gotten the internship here I had been hoping for. I was "intentionally single," or whatever the fuck that means. Code word for on a path of self-discovery that is only wide enough for me to walk. The path widened upon running into Lena, however. I could always make space for her.

"Me too," she said back. We were both dodging the obvious question.

"Work going well?" I asked.

"Yeah, kind of. We're not doing that much TikTok anymore, as you probably know,"

"I didn't know,"

"Yeah, actually, I don't know why I said that,"

"No, it's okay, I didn't mean it like–" I tried to apologize but just ended up laughing awkwardly.

"So you're here... to stay?"

"Yeah! Very exciting," I took a sip of my water.

"Very," she said.

I didn't know where to go next with the conversation.

"Well, see you around!"

"Yeah, see you!"

Ouch. I didn't know what I expected, though. We had broken up for a reason, and we hadn't set any expectations on me coming back and getting back together. For all I knew she was dating someone else now. We had gone through too much pain a year ago to dismiss it this easily.

I sat back down at my table for another half an hour, trying to focus on my book but only analyzing and reanalyzing our conversation.

My phone buzzed. A message from Lena.

hey, sorry, I didn't mean to leave so soon. I have a meeting this afternoon, but I'd love to get coffee this week. If you want to.

So she was overthinking that interaction, too. I smiled at the message.

Would love to. Same place, same time tomorrow?

She sent back the shaking hands emoji. Maybe not so much had changed.