Sara's Diary

July 11th

10 years later...

Dear Diary, 

The sky is bright and blue. The sun is hot and optimistic. The bees are busy and the birds are chirping. And I can pleasantly say that this is one of the happiest moments of my life. Words that are not often heard after going through the gruelling process of moving houses. But I live to tell the tale.

The place that I can now call home is somewhat 'together'. Most things are in their designated places, hidden from my guests who were soon due for arrival. Hopefully, the discarded moving boxes won't play as too much of a distraction from the charm that my new home omits.

13:23 pm.

They will be here soon;

Alicia.

and 

Oli.

And their partners.

Faces that I haven't seen in awhile despite my longing too. The saying that, life can get in the way, is true. Too true. Though the saying is often used to depict moments where life gets too much and is stressful. Stifling, allowing no room to breathe. For me, it is the opposite. The air is light, allowing for easy breathing. And I am elated.

I stack some plates on the wood-topped table, situated in the far corner of my garden, next to the gold-rimmed glasses. In the fridge, a pitcher of bittersweet lemonade sits next to dishes filled with slick green olives, creamy houmous and freshly cut summer fruits. Sinking into the bench, letting the sun fall on my face and eyelids drift closed. Embracing natures tune and the top-up of vitamin-D. I let my mind wander nowhere. 

The bell rings, taking me out of the zone.

The reunion was joyous and teary-eyed. We soon got chatting over our cool drinks and Mediterranean snacks.

I finally got to meet Christine; Oli's fiancee who was a budding interior designer. 

And caught up with Jay; Alicia's long-term boyfriend over the success of his new restaurant. Before the sun was able to set, I gave Alicia a tour of my new place.

I showed her all the important parts;

How comfy the mattress was.

How good the water pressure was in the shower.

The perfect view of the sun setting from my bed.

Alicia grins like a Chesire cat, announcing that she has a surprise for me.

The bell goes again. I wasn't expecting any more guests.

But by now I should know better than to anticipate your presence.

Your energy is drawn to me like a magnet I cannot repel. 

The decade has eaten away at your youthfulness. A newfound maturity.

In your skin.

The way you style your hair.

Your stance.

The way you wear your clothes. Dressed in a suit with your tie slightly undone.

You smile at me but it doesn't reach your hazel eyes.

No, instead they glisten with fatigue. Searching for something.

You ask to come in and I oblige. Shuffling around awkwardly in my hallway before I lead the way to the garden. Where you greet my guests and their partners like long lost friends.

How much had I missed in the ten years that had passed?

How many nights out? Nights in. Roadtrips. Engagement parties. Restaurant openings. Had I missed? So much so that invites were no longer extended. And my place taken by someone else. 

To fill the gap.

I watched from the doorway as you all chatted, cosied up, made inside jokes. When did James fit in? When didn't I?

Maybe I felt bold.

Maybe I drank too much. But I spoke up. Forcing silence to descend. No one spoke.

Then you did. Stuttering a little. Struggling to get your words out.

And I felt this heat boiling in my throat. Why were you here?

Alicia speaks. She invited you. Because she thought it would be fun. If we were all united again. Like in college.

I stand silent. Then go to refill my glass, I didn't like how it felt when it was empty.

There it was again. The pull. Like a magnet to a fridge.

You in my kitchen. Who would've thought a decade on? James would be standing in my kitchen. I laugh to myself. Slightly hysterical. Slightly drunk. You ask what's funny. I shrug before answering.

You laugh too, realising how weird it was. Apologising for not thinking it through.

Silence.

You ask me how I am. I reply and relay the question.

Silence again.

Fine, you say. Shoving both hands into your trouser pockets.

But you're not. 

 I think, you add.

Then like a good magnet, my arms are wrapped around your waist. Enclosing you.

It takes you a while to respond to my hug. Warm-up to my touch. Like you had forgotten what it felt like.

I didn't, couldn't. No matter how much I tried. You were engrained into my senses.

And no matter how much I busied myself with any and everything, I could never forget you.

And that was ok.

Sara.