One-night stands are supposed to be nothing more than just. It shouldn't have involved seeing those two red lines looking back at you weeks later without a name or a contact number linking you back to your mystery man. Nothing more but his face. The...
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Present...
Why do I keep thinking about that night all over again?
You can only wonder, as you keep being reminded of that eventful night.
Weeks, nearly a month have gone by ever since, yet the memories seem to have been engraved deeply in your thoughts. And today, even though you haven't really been thinking about it since, you suddenly find yourself having no trouble recounting everything that happened then.
Well, almost everything.
Some parts may seem blurry now. All due to the passing of time and the fact that you were partly inebriated at the time. But you can still recall some parts of the night that had clearly left a strong impression on you—the first encounter and the conversation you shared before alcohol took over, the instant attraction that you felt, but most of all, his entire presence.
And they all have been coming into your thoughts while you are sitting here in the corner of your bathroom. Alone. With your arms wrapped around your folded knees and your eyes closed. As if you are waiting for a miracle to happen.
You scoff at the thought.
Right. Miracles.
Years have long passed since you stopped believing that miracles do exist. Life always has its way of blindsiding you with its twists and turns that miracles no longer seem to matter anymore.
Not for you, at least.
Your past experiences have only caused you to look at it with sceptical eyes, sometimes even with bitterness, knowing that life has never been on your side.
But here you are now, wishing, praying, holding onto hope that there would be a miracle to stop you from getting into a messy situation. One that you know you wouldn't be able to handle on your own.
After all, the perfect season of miracles is right around the corner. So it wouldn't be so wrong for you to have some faith in them again now, would it?
Your phone starts blaring with the sound of the alarm, snapping you out of it. Slowly, you rise on your wobbly feet. It feels as if your entire body has grown numb even before you get to face reality as it comes glaring back at you.
Clutching onto the edges of your bathroom counter, you try to hold yourself together, and immediately failing, as you look at the two thin white strips lying on the cold counter and feel your entire world tilting off of its axis.
All because of the two red lines that are clearly visible on each strip.
"Oh, fuck," you softly groan. Deep down, you had already predicted this. Yet you kept denying it, hoping that you would be wrong.
"No, no, no—" you continue murmuring to yourself while wishing that you could somehow turn back time and change everything before things started going the wrong way.
