It's old and overgrown with Wisteria, their lilac flowers leaving the soft scent of evergreens lingering around.
Today it was pouring rain so I took my umbrella.
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"Just as long as you stand...." - I hummed to myself "stand by me"
Sometimes I think of how high the bridge is. If you were to fall from the height, could you live? Would you want to live after? I wonder how many people think of things like that?
There was heavy breathing but not from me. It was a man, a tall man with dark brown hair and black honey eyes. It seemed he has been running for ages. Was he late?
"Huh?"
It's not everyday that somebody is here too. He just stands there letting the rain fall on him like...
He was waiting for someone to show up...
"You'll get sick in this rain" - I say politely holding my umbrella higher to shield him from the storm above
Waiting for someone....
Someone like....
"Sorry it's small" - I laugh trying to stand on my tippy toes to make sure he was underneath. I tried to make conversation but he just doesn't answer back.
There was something about him that I couldn't put my finger on it.
Was he waiting...for me?
His brown eyes stare into mine that at first I assume seem average but now screamed hope.
But what was he hoping for? What did he see in mine that made him hopeful?
"Have...we....met before?" - I asked tilting my head to the side and it seemed those words hurt him in a way. It was weird...?
He just sighs and walks past me back into the rain.
"No, no! Wait! If you're looking for someone, maybe I can help? Maybe a building? Or someone I ran into or know?" - I offered but he doesn't stop and just disappears into the fog of the city.
——————
A Year later and it still bothers me.
That man. That day.
I sighed sitting at the same bridge, I never saw him again after that day.
The sun was shining as I sketched inside my notebook, re-drawing his facial features throwing one paper away after another.
It was hard to remember.
Each one just seemed off and now, as I dropped the pencil down and held my drawing farther away.
Yes. It was him. The way his hair laid, those curves of his mouth and his eyes. Those hopeful ones.
"John?" - I say outloud trying to imagine a name to match his face "No, Michael? Warren? Maaaaaybe Edward?"
And suddenly a name just popped up
"Nicolas"
he did look like a Nicolas now and whoever he was, I was going to find him.
