Three Years of Separation

He was my first and last love. I loved him and I still love him. It’s been three years since I last saw him. Even though it has been three years, those words that he had said to me are still fresh in my mind. I haven’t stopped thinking about him these three years, I can’t forget about him. My only wish was to see him again, but from a distance, I just wanted to see if he was doing well. I wanted to see if he is doing well with ‘her’. My wish came true after one dreadful phone call. My father had a sudden heart attack and he wasn’t expected to live for long. His only wish before his death was to see me. I gave no second thought and bought the next open ticket to fly home. Realization didn’t hit me until I was standing at the entrance of the San Francisco International Airport, I was back in California. Even though I was back to visit my father, a question kept popping up in my head, ‘Will I see him again?'

Because of a turning point in my father’s health, he got better. He was expected live a few more years if he started eating more healthier. Since my father’s health was better, I wanted to go back to London. However, my father begged me to stay. I knew he would be heart brokened if I said no, so I reluctantly said yes. At that point, I had a tiny, tiny hope that I would get to see him again. My tiny hope came true when my mother announced that I would attend school next Monday at the high school that I attended before I left for London. I was ecstatic that I was going to see him again, but I was also scared.

What would happen when we meet again?