Second Chance

I was right.

I couldn't be sure, until that moment in the conversation where you let slip that you were thinking of getting back together with him. But then he dropped the bomb, and there was no turning back.

I wonder if you'll turn back to the other thing you walked away from recently. To be honest, I was pleasantly surprised--the last time we met, it seemed every fibre in you was set on crossing a line that would irrevocably divide us. As it turns out, a series of incidents blocked your progress in the intervening months. You eventually arrived at the realisation that you had all you wanted all along.

But let's not dwell on such heavy-going things.

You looked fabulous tonight--did you dress up just for me? You didn't have to, if all you were doing was coming from home, on a bus, to a place which is nowhere near the kinds of places that people dress up for. But you did. And sitting there, framed by the wall and table, I couldn't help but notice the details in you. I marvelled at your immaculate dinner etiquette, and struggled to hide my own ignorance of which knife to use.

When you spoke, I heard ambition, sensibility and depth. As you drew in a breath to laugh, I felt drawn in as well, and all of a sudden I wondered what it means to completely give oneself to more than one person in one's life.

The night ended earlier, and with far less solidarity than when we first met up. But it ended with just as much promise.

I want to see you again.