Seasons in Life

v. new year's day.

December 31, the day Ivan said we'd meet again and he replied to my message the minute I sent it; his reply was as simple as 'I'll still wait, Liv. It doesn't matter whether or not you'll come; I would still wait.'

However, I didn't respond to it. I still don't know whether or not I'll meet him; it might be awkward and besides, wouldn't his girlfriend be mad?

Also, I can't believe how fast the year passed by; its already the end of the year and in the next few hours we will welcome a new beginning yet here I am still somehow one step from the future and a step backward.

The only reason I'm excited is that next week, Bridget will come back and everything will be tolerable in here. I even told her about Ivan and asked her for advice on whether or not I'd meet Ivan tonight and the only thing she said to me was that I should go. After all, we were once friends and lovers but at the end of the day, the decision will be mine.

I'm in between wanting to go and not. However, I decided to dress in a white satin backless dress, exposing my back tattoo. Lining my spine are two fish on each side, separated in the middle by a star constellation and a gumamela flower at the top of it, all of which relate to my brother. This is my latest tattoo; I got it last year on my birthday.

The two fish symbolize me and my brother because we used to have a pet fish when we were young, and a gumamela flower because he always gave me one, picking in our neighborhood's garden. The stars cascading in the middle, separating the two fish, are us. The stars separate us but I will always remember him.

I grabbed a jacket and covered it to myself as the cold air greeted me as soon as I stepped outside. I can't believe how the year will be ending; time indeed flies, and then I'll face work.

When I arrived at the place, it was already crowded and the place already smelled of alcohol. It wasn't even New Year's yet, and people were already drunk and chaotically dancing. I began searching for Ivan on the dance floor, and he wasn't there. I went to the bartender, and to my surprise, he was there, alone with one empty glass as he kept looking at his phone.

There's no sight of Blair anywhere, not even on the dance floor. I presumed he came alone. I gathered all the courage I had left and subsided my other thoughts of backing out as I grabbed my phone and messaged Ivan. 

I'm here.

I witnessed how he immediately grabbed his phone and plastered a smile on his face. I approached him, and four steps away from him, I could already smell his cologne—it never changes, it is still the same, and it always reminds me of home, solace, and peace.

"Hey," I greeted him. He turned his attention to me, looking me up and down before he locked his gaze on mine. He is wearing a black polo long sleeve, with two unbuttons revealing his chest, and rolled sleeves up to his elbow.

"Hi," Ivan greeted back, with a smile that could turn my world upside down. It was something that could melt you in an instant; it used to be my weakness, especially when his dimples were prevalent. "I'm glad you came. I was scared you wouldn't show up, and you look great by the way. Here, have a seat." He patted the chair next to him and I complied; he even helped me sit properly without my dress hiking up.

"I surprised myself as well," I answered, smiling at him. "And, um, thank you; you look good as well."

"Thank you," he responded and we fell into silence, two exes alone in the bartender bar while everyone was dancing on the dance floor, and our silence wasn't awkward despite years of not seeing each other; it's like before, where we can be engulfed in silence while still enjoying each other's company.

I noticed a tattoo on his right arm—blank ink swirling across his arm, like water lines—abstract. I saw that type of tattoo on the internet but never in person; it was actually a good tattoo, and I wonder when he got it and if he still has another one.