Collection of Stories

Reunited

I'm sitting on the platform waiting for her train to arrive. She has been gone for precisely four months, 23 days and 9 hours, and I have been in agony for each and every second of that. My knee bounces up and down as I sit on the freezing cold bench, my stomach knotted with butterflies. I don't know why I'm so nervous. Maybe I'm afraid she'll see me and realise that she wasn't missing much. Maybe she didn't miss me half as much as I did her, or maybe even less than that. Maybe she won't like the fact I cut my hair short so that I have to wear a bobble hat permanently because my head is cold. Maybe she'll judge me for the eccentric make-up style that I've developed. Maybe she'll notice that I have scratches on my shoes. I am filled with worry and doubt, so when the train begins to pull in, it takes me all my strength not to run away from the platform. I promised her that I'd be here when she came home. Well, not home as such, she never lived here, just me. But she was coming back to me and that made it feel like she was coming home.

The people are beginning to exit the carriages and my eyes search desperately across the faces that emerge, bleary eyed from an uncomfortable over-nighter in a train the size of a shoe box. I wonder if she will be tired and decide she will be so I will be nice and not babble for too long about how much I have missed her. Eventually, the crowd begins to clear but I can't see her still. Maybe she decided not to come at all. That would be the worst. I have been longing for this moment since she left for her university and I for mine. 

There's a light tap on my shoulder and I spin. It's her. It's really her! She smiles at me and my heart melts because I missed that smile. Then she laughs and everything just becomes perfect.

"I told you I was on the last carriage! You got your ends mixed up!" She laughs.

I just look at her in awe for a moment, then the flowers in my hand drop to the floor because my arms around her, squeezing as tight as I can. This startles her for a moment but then she does the same, even stronger than I can muster. When she pulls back, I finally find my words.

"I missed you so much."

"Aww, I missed you too,  baby doll," she blushes. I haven't heard her say that to my face in so long and it warms me.

"Lover girl" I smile back. This is an inside joke we have that no one understands despite our many attempts at explaining it.

"So are you going to kiss me or aren't you?" 

She doesn't get a reply, unless you count an action as a reply. I bring her as close to me as I possibly can, push back her hair away from her face and kiss her for as long as I can. I'm sure that people are looking, maybe realising that this isn't two friends reuniting, maybe judging us for who we are and who we love. But in that moment, I don't care what they think. I kiss my girl for as long as it feels right to, and pull away. She pouts which makes me laugh.

"You'll have plenty of time to kiss me on this trip," I explain.

"Yes, but nothing will be as powerful as that one."

I pick the flowers up off of the floor and hand them to her. "I hope these are still your favourite."

Her smile broadens when she smells them, "Just like home."

The words we exchange after that are probably not very interesting to someone like you. We catch up on the things that we have done, the topics we have learnt about, the people we have met, the failed recipes that we've abandoned. It matters only to us. To you, the important thing is that we are reunited. That is all that matters.