We all have a name that means something to us, one that we attach a certain affinity to. It could be a name of our parents, siblings, first crush, or even our rival. A name that when you hear it, it pokes a certain sensation in your gut. The name could leave a good or bad taste, depending on whatever left of your relationship with the holder of that name. Shakespeare may have asked 'What's in a name?', and the truth is there are so many things a name could done to us. No one is immune to that.
For Runa, she doesn't really have a name that she holds close to her heart. She keeps everyone at a safe space and treats them equally, always preferring to keep a balance. She does, however, have a name that she tends to keep out of her mind, just to keep herself at peace. One she does not like to say nor listen to in the past two years. A name that belongs to a guy who stands in front of her, with his hands inside his jeans pocket and navy blue jacket hung on his shoulders. Way more casual than her own gray trousers and brown trench coat with black collar peeking inside, an obvious work attire.
Jasim. His name is Jasim.
"Hi." she greeted him, her hand slightly wave. "It's been a while."
"And you're still awkward as hell." he said, eyes almost rolled at her. This guy doesn't change at all, she thought to herself. Nor does that pair of cold eyes and that unimpressed smile, only his body got a little bit leaner. Busy with work, she assumed. But over all, time has been quite gentle with him.
"What, you still can't realize a joke directly?" he said again, noticing the pause she gave him.
"Ha ha," she just gave him a small awkward laugh, one she always let out at an unfamiliar situation. But this isn't an unfamiliar situation, and he's far from an unfamiliar person. How could he be unfamiliar, he was once hers in the past. They were together for some time, until they went on their separate ways. Amicably she'd like to believe, as they even took a picture together during their graduation. She still saved it, somewhere in her old hard disk memory. She has always been a hoarder. "When did you arrive, exactly?"
"Yesterday, eleven pm." he answered, leaning on the white walls behind him.
"Aren't you jet lagged?"
"It's only two hours difference."
"Ah, yes. I forgot."
It feels like time and space has done something to Runa, for she does lost an ability to string out a couple of words to form some sensical sentences. She may not be much of a talker, but she never really lost her wit before. She doesn't really understand why.
Or perhaps she does, but she preferred not to admit it.
"Why don't you tell me that you're going to come here?" she then asked genuinely, for she does not know that he would be here. Had she known, things would have been so different. So, so different. Like, maybe, she could try to find a reason to run away or something. Or, she could try to rehearse the conversation they're going to have over and over again, trying to find the best angle on it. There a lot of options to choose, really.
Oh, how she wished she had known.
