Two Years Later: A Love Rekindled Across Miles
It was around 6:30 PM, and for some reason, the world around me felt unusually vibrant, as if everyone was wrapped in an extra layer of joy. I couldn’t tell if it was the energy of the crowd or just how I was feeling in that moment—maybe both. Either way, it felt different. The weight of the usual evening rush didn’t seem to press down on me today. With a heart full of anticipation, I left the office faster than usual and ran out to catch a cab. Normally, the streets at this hour would be a mess of traffic, each honk and slow-moving car adding to the frustration of my day. But today, everything seemed lighter. The noise, the rush—it all felt like it was happening at a distance. Perhaps it was just the feeling that something long-awaited was about to happen, something I had dreamed of for so long.
The cab stopped at my usual spot, but I barely noticed. I stepped out, barely registering the faces around me as my mind raced with excitement. My feet carried me down the street with one goal: to get home. I quickly entered, feeling the warmth of the space around me, and went straight to the calendar. My eyes locked on the date: October 12. Tomorrow. A smile tugged at my lips as the realization hit me. Tomorrow, she would be here.
It had been two years since I last saw her. The airport had been the last place I saw her, watching her walk away, the silence between us heavy with unspoken words. Back then, I had felt something—something strong and unexplainable—but I never called it love. I didn’t even know what it was at the time. But now, as I stood there, thinking about her return, I realized the truth: I had always loved her, even when I didn’t have the words for it.
She’s in Dublin now, Riya that's what her name. Our journey began the moment we met in college, a meeting that started it all.
It was around 6:30 PM, and for some reason, the world around me felt unusually vibrant, as if everyone was wrapped in an extra layer of joy. I couldn’t tell if it was the energy of the crowd or just how I was feeling in that moment—maybe both. Either way, it felt different. The weight of the usual evening rush didn’t seem to press down on me today. With a heart full of anticipation, I left the office faster than usual and ran out to catch a cab. Normally, the streets at this hour would be a mess of traffic, each honk and slow-moving car adding to the frustration of my day. But today, everything seemed lighter. The noise, the rush—it all felt like it was happening at a distance. Perhaps it was just the feeling that something long-awaited was about to happen, something I had dreamed of for so long.
The cab stopped at my usual spot, but I barely noticed. I stepped out, barely registering the faces around me as my mind raced with excitement. My feet carried me down the street with one goal: to get home. I quickly entered, feeling the warmth of the space around me, and went straight to the calendar. My eyes locked on the date: October 12. Tomorrow. A smile tugged at my lips as the realization hit me. Tomorrow, she would be here.
It had been two years since I last saw her. The airport had been the last place I saw her, watching her walk away, the silence between us heavy with unspoken words. Back then, I had felt something—something strong and unexplainable—but I never called it love. I didn’t even know what it was at the time. But now, as I stood there, thinking about her return, I realized the truth: I had always loved her, even when I didn’t have the words for it.
She’s in Dublin now, Riya that's what her name. Our journey began the moment we met in college, a meeting that started it all.
