The Way It Was Before

prologue

I pull the curtains to the side and lift the window, allowing the morning light to flood my apartment. With the sun warming my skin, I stretch my torso with my arms up before I walk to the kitchen to make some coffee. A blue sticky note on the fridge catches my attention, and I let out an amused sigh at the words written hastily in a black pen.

Good luck with your date!

Josie, my roommate and my college best friend, must have left it at the last minute before she took off to Pittsburgh to visit her girlfriend. I have told her many times that it isn't the kind of date she's thinking about—I'm just having drinks with an old friend and catching up—but her silly note makes me rethink my outfit for later.

Once I've prepared my sweetened coffee and those biscuits I bought yesterday, I go to my laptop that hasn't left the dining table for weeks now. It's my early morning routine to eat my breakfast while reviewing my notes and doing research before I ready myself for work or my classes on weekends. Josie thinks I'm overworking myself—which perhaps explains her thrill when I told her I was meeting up with a guy—but I disagree with her. I like my routine as it offers me a sense of stability.

I can't deny, though—working as an HR assistant at a firm while doing my master's gets tough sometimes (okay, most of the time because I get too exhausted to even think about cooking a decent meal or doing an hour at the gym). But I'm sure it will all be worth it in the end. After all, I'm working toward my dream.

My hands fly swiftly across the keyboard as I finish my presentation for next week's class. When my cup has gone empty and cold and my plate has nothing but a few crumbs on it, I save my files to the cloud and get up to wash the utensils in the sink.

Out of the corner of my eye, I notice an orange leaf slip through the window gap and settle on the floor. I walk over to it to pick it up, and then I stare at the blue sky and the shedding tree outside the window, the wind blowing my short hair behind me.

It's that time of the year again, when every leaf turns from green to gold. I smile fondly at the memories it brings me. Memories from a distant place where a part of my heart still belongs. Twirling the leaf in my hand, I proceed to my bedroom and grab a fresh sheet of paper and a pen from my desk. I still have plenty of time to prepare for my coffee date, so I pull up a chair and write my last letter to him.

It may be my final letter, but it's one of those that will remain unsent.

──────

Do you remember that night when we climbed up on that tower to watch the stars and eat takeout food? I still have the picture of that moment tucked between the pages of my old diary and between the cracks of my heart. It's one of my favorite memories because you held my hand and we were surrounded by the laughter of our friends and it felt like nothing bad was ever going to happen. But most of all, it's because you were there.

Sometimes when I'm alone, I close my eyes and wish so badly to be able to go back to that night and hold your hand a little more tightly. Sometimes, the impossibility of it happening makes me cry.

But don't worry about me. I'm okay now. And I think I'm doing well. I have made plenty of friends over the years, and I'm starting to see the good parts of the world like we dreamed of doing. I may fall in love again with someone new, and soon, my memory of you will be tucked away like the pictures we took when we were young.

I have loved you. You are my treasured moment. You will always be a part of me no matter how many years pass.

Every time the seasons change, I remember you.

- A.L.