A single day hasn't passed since that day, where you didn't think about her. You suddenly remember that feeling you used to get as a kid when you were so excited, you couldn't focus on anything else. Well, that was you again. Thinking about her.
You probably think too much about everything. The what ifs and the should haves. You shook your head and got up from your bed. You changed into a black dress with a pretty lace collar and a cardigan over it. You quickly grabbed your notebook and a pen and ran outside.
It was the best kind of November day. Cold and crispy. You walked out of the house and saw the first snowflakes. You walked through the falling snow down the old cobblestone path. It was cold. It was bitter. And you wished nothing more than for her to be there, but you knew she never would be. Why would she be there, anyway? She has a family, and you must be a child in her eyes. You exhaled and decided to go for a walk.
Your breath froze mid-air, you were walking somewhere, but nowhere in particular. The only thing you heard was yourself walking on the snow. You heard the absence of the birds. A stillness so complete. You sat down on the nearest bench and started writing:
//
"Your eyes reminded me of the endless ocean. Overwhelming, deep, and swimming with life. They became my favourite colour and I would gladly paint every single wall in my house to match them. So vast and yet so happily open. Even though you were unbearably nice, I still stayed with you and let myself plunge into the rich, glassy waters in those eyes. Your soul is the riptide. I was pulled under. I could not breathe. I drowned."
//
You looked up at the sky. It was already getting darker. You put on your headphones and listened to a song called 'better alone', by Lykki Li. You smoked and listened to the same song over and over again until you could no longer feel a thing, only your cheeks burning from the cold. On the other page of your notebook, you started to sketch her. Her face. Her eyes. Her smile. You lit another cigarette when you heard a crispy, but familiar voice.
"You never stop surprising me."
You turned around and saw the older woman you were thinking about.
"I didn't know you smoked." She came closer.
"Well.." You smiled. "I do."
"I can tell." She started to laugh. "What are doing here all by yourself? It can get quite dangerous." She raised her eyebrow. You could tell that she meant it in that 'motherly' way.
"I'm the kind of person who likes to be by herself. To put a finer point on it, I'm the type of person who doesn't find it painful to be alone. I've had this tendency ever since I was young, when, given a choice, I much preferred reading books on my own or concentrating on listening to music over being with someone else. I could always think of things to do by myself." You replied with a smile. "What about you?"
"You are a fascinating being, (Y/N)."
"People say that often."
She looked at you like she wanted to say something, but then she closed her eyes and smile. "Well, I like to spend some time by myself as well. As a mother, wife and an actress, I hardly get some time to myself and I quite enjoy walks and this weather." She looked up and smiled.
There was silence between you and her. It felt like both of you wanted to say something, but weren't brave enough, or simply didn't know how to say that. The blonde woman finally spoke.
"Well, I'll see you on Saturday, I hope you are still coming." She smiled and slowly started walking away.
"I'll be there."
"Good.. also. I like that drawing." She winked at you and got lost in the snowflakes.
'What drawing?', you thought and then remembered that you forgot to close your notebook. You could feel your cheeks burning, but it was not because of the cold weather.
