Together/Not

11 The Reunion ⏮️

"I'll see you in two days"
Those words echoed in my mind as the countdown began.

Forty-eight hours.
Forty-eight hours until we meet again.

We hadn't slept well for days, both of us tangled in the busyness of work and travel preparations, but perhaps, more than anything, we were simply too excited and nervous. Sleep? Almost nonexistent. I planned to explore by day, work by night—rest could wait. Meeting for the second time—after a year of being apart—felt surreal.

I should have slept, knowing that the coming days would be a whirlwind of travel, exploration by day, and work by night. But who could sleep? My heart was racing, and my mind was already halfway across the world.
My days were crammed with work, compensating for the time I knew I'd be away, and my nights were filled with restless thoughts of him. Carlos. We had stayed connected, bonded by messages and memories, and now, the moment was almost here.

The night before my flight, I sat with a close friend at a café, savoring one last evening in Cebu before my travels. I told her about Carlos.

"I'm going to meet him, again" I confessed, a mix of excitement and anxiety bubbling up.

No one knows I'm about to spend weeks with a stranger. I wanted someone to know...
"Just in case he kills me or something," I joked, though a small part of me held on to that thread of uncertainty.

She laughed, but I knew she understood my cautious excitement.

"What time is your flight tomorrow?"
"I'm not sure. I'll check later," I shrugged, too caught up in the moment to think about it. But she insisted, and when I finally looked at my flight details, panic gripped me.

My heart dropped.
My flight was in five hours.
Panic set in.

I rushed home, packing in a frenzy. Clothes, toiletries—everything was thrown into my suitcase without a second thought. It was chaos, and I was sure I had forgotten half of what I needed.

But I didn't care.
I just couldn't miss that flight.
I couldn't miss Carlos.

I hailed a taxi and sped to the airport, mentally thanking my friend over and over.

The excitement began to build again.
In less than 24 hours, I would be with him.

"Mimia," his message popped up as I waited to board.
"I won't be able to sleep... because of you. Aaahhh, I'm anxious."
"Have a safe flight, Mimia."
See you tomorrow—no, later, today."
"I'll see you today!"

I smiled, his nervous energy spilling through the phone, matching my own. He was just as excited, just as anxious. It made my heart swell.

I arrived in Shanghai for a layover. I spent the entire day wandering, dragging my luggage behind me, sleepless but too exhilarated to rest. The hours slipped by until the final flight.

"Im here," Carlos texted.

"I'm here," I replied, still on the plane, my heart racing as we landed. I could barely breathe.

The moment was finally here.
We were now in the same city, breathing the same air.
Time felt warped—rushing forward and standing still all at once.

As I finally stepped out into the terminal, a wave of nerves washed over me. We planned to meet at a Starbucks. What if I looked terrible after hours of travel What if he regretted meeting me, standing there sweaty and disheveled, like a tired, wilted flower? I must have reapplied my lipstick and sprayed perfume five times as I made my way toward him.

"I'm in front of Starbucks," he messaged.

I looked around anxiously and excited, "Me too. Where are you?"

We laughed when we realized there must be another Starbucks nearby. We were both circling around for minutes trying to catch one another.

He is waiting for me.

I see him from the back, anxiously waiting.

I walked over to him, trying to sound upbeat despite being anxious and breathless. "Hi! Carlos?" I asked unsure, and before I could say something else, he greeted me with a bright smile and a warm tight long hug.

The world melted away. It was as though time had folded in on itself, bringing me back to that feeling of safety and warmth I had missed for a year.

"I forgot you were this short," he teased, and we both laughed. There was a moment of disbelief, of surreal joy.

All the anticipation, the sleepless nights—none of it mattered the moment I was in his arms.

We were finally together,
again.

That night, we grabbed a taxi and headed to our hotel. Our first small argument surfaced as Carlos grumbled about my bulky luggage. "This will slow us down," he said. I playfully defended myself, insisting I could manage, though inwardly, I knew I was far from a backpacker.

But even as we bickered, we couldn't stop laughing. I didn't realize how much I had missed his laughter until it echoed in the same space as mine again. The tension melted away, and soon, we were sitting close, our hands intertwined. I leaned into him, inhaling his familiar scent, feeling the warmth of his skin against mine like home. He tried to kiss me, but the taxi jolted, and we both laughed. He tried again, this time brushing his lips against mine, and I kissed him back, long and deep—everything I had been longing for.

He was right. It felt like we were picking up exactly where we had left off.

I never imagined our first kiss after all this time would be in a taxi, with a driver silently witnessing our reunion.

That kiss took me back to a year ago, in another taxi, when we said what we thought would be our final goodbye. Neither of us had expected to see each other again, let alone like this.

When we finally reached the hotel, exhaustion hit. We were both drained from the long day and lack of sleep. He showers and prepares for bed while I prepare to work.

We lay side by side in bed serious and silent, me working on my laptop, him on his phone. Soon after, Carlos put his phone down.

He started teasing me, running his fingers through my hair, rubbing my back, his touches light and playful. I laughed, trying to focus on my work, but his soft, insistent touch made it impossible.

"Carlito," I warned, half laughing, half serious.

But he kept going. His little kisses trailed over my skin, teasing, until I couldn't resist any longer. I put my laptop aside, letting the moment take over, letting him take over.

And in that quiet room, after a year of longing, we finally gave in to the desire we'd been holding back for so long.

Reunions remind us that no matter how far apart we are, some connections never fade.