Hope We Meet Again

Epilogue: Reminiscing

Hey, I used to have a crush on you, but I don't think I still do. I'll miss the times that you made me feel happy and giddy to the point that I was swaying my feet like a little girl on a swing as I waited for that first push into the air.

Hey, I like you, but every time I look at your suntanned eyes and the way you smile, I smile softly back at you, but my eyes don't. I wonder if those unfazed looks you give me are a sign of regret or fatality within yourself as you realise you have done something terrible.

Hey, do I know you? You seem too distant for me to shape your thoughts. If those moments meant nothing to you, they meant the whole world to me.

"Hey," I would say to you, but you never said it back. The way I asked about your day, I yearn for that deep conversation with you, but it never seems to last for a second. The statement glance that you place on me makes me shiver, questioning if it was in disgust or anguish how you left me on read leading up to New Year's. How you became drier and drier each day as you ignored me. I would sigh and laugh at it, even though a part of me wanted your company but you didn't want mine.

Hey, I don't know you, but if the stars collide and this planet dies, I hope we meet again in another lifetime or in another timeline. I liked you, but not this type of you or how you became the version that society wanted you to be. I liked the version where you were authentic, thoughtful, and funny; how you didn't care if you were caught dead with me; how you tried your best to make me smile; and how you seemed to fail every time we played card games. How you talked in this reminiscing tone and how you looked at me with that glint of childlike hope in your suntanned eyes, your mesmerising eyes—how you capsulated me into this world where I can feel safe and secure. I like this version of you because it reminds me of a fairytale, but facts are greater than fiction, and I just don't know you anymore.

I smiled bitterly as I thought to myself that maybe "forever" was a word meant for memories and not people. How it holds such dear torment as my mind replays what my heart can't erase. Your laughter will ever so slightly dance across my ears as the wind pats against your dark, glistening hair. Your eyes reflect the light as it hits the right spot to make them shine as you step out and delve into your teenage years, just as I delved into mine.

We go our separate ways as you construct this new version of yourself that I barely like or know, but one day we will meet again, through rain or sun, yearning for those deep conversations and silly laughter over some little convenience. Looking at me with awe as I look at you smiling, I hope we meet again, and I hope you will be the one to say, "Hey, I like you".