If Only You Knew

EIGHT

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The first day of the year began with an all too familiar headache, and I rolled to my side in an attempt to squish it, in vain. The sun streamed lazily through the window, illuminating the mess of clothes I made undressing myself before bed. 

The sight of my blazer draping the desk chair brought a warm feeling to my heart. Last night was an absolute dream, beyond any of my expectations. It was an evening straight out of the movies which surprisingly panned out without any drama. Brett's face flashed in my mind, triggering butterflies in my stomach. It bummed me that our timing couldn't have been worse. Meeting him added up to the pile of reasons that made me wish my stay was a little longer.

Unwilling to get out of my comfy pajamas, I chose to spend the day sluggishly moving around the appartment. I sat on the couch sipping on a much needed sobering tea, and dug into the box of journals I brought back from my Dad's house. Many of the diaries had stickers and drawings reflecting my favorite music bands and actors. As I flipped through the pages, the memories jumped out of the pages vividly, and it was as if I stepped through a portal to these chapters of my life. Some of the details were so foreign to me, it seemed my teenage self collected every single incredibly random moments.

Some of these entries made it clear I had always been highly sensitive person. Everything that happened to me, whether it be a stern look from my mother or the intonation of the mean girl's voice in elementary school, would literally set me off to spiral. Thankfully with years of growth under my belt, I learned not to take everything so personally, even if the overthinking remained a stubborn trait.

The hours flew by as I devoured my younger self thoughts, when my attention got pulled away by Brett's name flashing across my phone. I welcomed the diversion and took a break to answer his text. We began to chat through a couple of casual texts where I discovered our shared love for food, as he smoothly suggested a lunch at a Mediterranean place on College Street, apparently his favorite. I reminded him I only had a week left to make this happen, and put down my phone, sad my trip was coming to an end. 

Toronto was technically home. My family lived here, I had spent most of my life in this country but despite that, this city no longer felt like my home. My adult life was now in London, my dream was in London. I knew that, yet somehow the growing curiosity to explore what might be for me in Toronto left me pensive.

In the wait of Brett's response, I skimmed through another journal, and an entry caught my eye – January 14th. The date being close to its anniversary, I began to read a snippet of my life, a decade ago.

January 14, 2014

Dear Diary,

Oh my gosh, you won't believe what happened today!
I cannot believe it!
This is the BEST day ever, ever and ever.
SHAWN KISSED ME!!!
We were waiting for my dad to pick me up
and he kissed me on my cheek first.
I was confused and thought this was goodbye.
But then, he kissed me on my lips. 

I was floating for real.
I can't stop replaying it in my head...
 It was magical.
I can't stop thinking about it!

Lost in the reverie, my mind replayed the sweet memory. I could remember rushing into my bedroom and jumping into my bed, staring at the ceiling while the scene replayed in my head for the hundreth time. How surreal to think this was the same Shawn Mendes I had recently bumped into. My phone buzzed, jolting me back to reality.