280 facebook messages (I counted).
One Day.
18 hours.
It must all mean something, shouldn't it?
But we'll never meet each other again, and one day, he will forget my name. One day, we'll feel awkward at even the memory of things that transpired. A crazy story we'll never tell anyone. You'll lead your life and I'll lead mine. We will stop and stare in silence at random people who remind us of each other. Perhaps the way they walked, or the exact color of their hair sabotages us into suddenly living that highlighted snippet of a memory that we had never even thought about until, the warm, tingly feelings besmirch us into falling into something we refuse to admit that we had not wanted to sidestep into.
After all, it was only supposed to be a meeting for one day and never again, not again for any good reason.
Otherwise, the distance may be good for both of us. It could be that I had followed my heart, or my lack of common sense. I knew what was going to happen between both of us those few days more, precious days - and I threw myself into it, wholeheartedly! I have never felt so alive; so incredibly, unbelievably happy.
I think of him in the shower. We did everything together, having this strange, familiar feeling that we have been closely acquainted for a long, long time. I know we'll never see each other again, based on the future choices we make. But I choose to meet him. And in essence, he chose me, too. Precious days, perfect moments, incredibly happy at these unexpected circumstances.
We chose each other, just for that one day.
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