Starting over

Has it been four years? Nearly five years maybe. Quite a stretch of time since I committed not to have direct communication with him. Well I slipped two times, dialed a number just to hear his voice. I regretted that because the conversation was stiffed, but ever since I’ve been very clean. Living continents apart set a solid distance and I must say that I had my heart healed.

But suddenly the opportunity arrived and I’d be in his town. It makes some sense to pay a visit. Say a hello, maybe. A coffee or two. I braced my self to confront my own shadow and the ghost of him. The soft dark tone that wasn’t haunting anymore but softly lingering.
And it turned out to be a burst of fun. We started with a meet-up in a bar, our bound with beers have always been there. His broken English were still apparent, but I got it. I always got him. His brutal honest sense of humor has always made me like him a little bit more. And after few pints, we quickly tightened the bound between us. It was as perfect as we began our first relationship, as best friends.
So many laughs, as this country was the country we lived in. He seems distanced, but I was very open. I ordered another round, and nudged him to confess. And by then he realized that I didn’t do any harm, the air was filled with a good intention. It was raining gently outside, but inside I felt nothing but warm. We had a good time, but I signaled him that I have to end the night. He dropped me off in front of my hotel gate, and when I took a look out of the window, I could see him walking slowly on a wet pathway with a sheepish smile.
The next morning my landline phone in the hotel room rang. It was him telling me that he managed to rent a bike for me and would like to take me for a daytrip in a country side. We pedalled our bike on the road to Amerongen, he went ahead I followed suit. Such a fine late summer morning until we hit the muddy road. We had too much fun that we forgot yesterday’s rain. His sports bike strolled easily while mine was dragging along with a lot of mud burst everywhere. Oh, we let a lot of laugh.
I had a another day trip without him to meet the guy that I used to have a huge crush on. Two hours went by in a flash, my dreams were fulfilled. During some alone time waiting for the train, I jotted down that I was very happy. Also, I can’t wait to meet him to tell him how happy I was. The urge to share was unbearable.

On my last night in town, we decided to meet up in a student pub. Oh, well. This could have been difficult and awkward. He was usually quiet as I fished out some talks. But I was glowing, and couldn’t stop smiling. I was glad that I spent time in his town and rekindled our connection. After all, he deserves to be loved in a sincere way and sparked with good will.
And when the night finally gave up, we hug. Such a deep and warm hug with all our might. It was as perfect as we hug four years ago, before I departed with my flight.

Only this time we start it all over again as best friends.

I guess I have done my part of forgiveness very well.

That Rockaway feeling

I can feel it’s ending. That Sundays, when everyone rushed to the beach just because we had unseasonably warm weather in late September, ...