How Long Will I Love You

Seventeen

SEVENTEEN

Knock, knock, knock.

“Coming.” I call, stopping my packing and rushing towards the door. I was preparing to head back to France and meet up with Jacques again after my Christmas holiday back home. This was my last day before I would be seeing my fiancée again- whom I really missed terribly.

He was my whole life and had been there with me every step of the way after that fatal day at the coffee shop. I found myself drawn to him and he must’ve felt the same as we met up on little dates several times after that before we finally decided to become an actual couple. I had even opened up to Jacques about him and he fully understood, promising me that he would help me get over him. And that he did. He was never on my mind anymore which I was so thankful about. Instead he had been replaced with the ‘one’ who had been the ‘one’ for three years.

The way Jacques made me feel was more than anything and everything he ever made me feel.

I smile just thinking about Jacques and when I reach the door I quickly pull it open. My eyes instantly widen and my mouth falls open. My body instantly tenses as I take in his dishevelled state.

Speak of the devil.

“What are you doing?” I eventually stammer after staring at each other for five minutes. He sighs and I can smell the alcohol and smoke on his breath. I instantly cringe. His eyes are black, his face almost drooping like he is already a forty year old man. He runs a hand through his hair and shakes his head, a tear running down his cheek.

I bite my lip, pitying him and my lips turn upwards sympathetically.

“I ran into your sister in the street and she told me this was your last day home.”

“Okay?”

“I’ve missed you. I can’t believe it ended the way it did. I realise now how much I really need you though.” He sniffs, running a hand underneath his snotty nose.

“What’s wrong?” my eyes narrow at him.

“She- she wants a d-divorce.” he croaks and collapses into me. My breath catches in my throat and I stand stark still, fearing to even breathe as he sobs openly on my shoulder. This is the first time I’ve seen him since before the wedding.

Judy sure messed him up badly.

And yet, even though I know Jacques is the only one for me, as my old best friend touches me all our memories come fleeting back to me and I find myself smiling at all the good times we spent together.

His touch ignites fire on my skin and I can’t help but wonder what would happen if he did actually love me back five years ago.

His touch is not nearly as desirable as Jacques’ who makes me feel as if lightening has struck me with just a simple nudge, and causes butterflies to erupt with just a simple glance.

But it’s enough to make me realise that it’s true what people say; you never forget your first love.

And as I hold him and he holds me and I tell him its okay and he cries, I hate that he does this to me. I hate how he always hurts me- even know by just showing up on my families’ doorstep and expecting everything to be fine again when I’m engaged and he doesn’t even know. And he doesn’t even know anything about my new life.

I hate that- no matter how small the feelings now are - I still love him.

How long will I love him?

THE END