Chris came back.
My heart took flight—fluttering like a little sparrow.
We're in our thirties now, but when I'm with you, I still feel like I'm twenty. It's been nearly ten years since we met. And through all that time, I've carried one thing more than anything else—my longing for you.
You knew the way to my home by heart now, so this time you waited for me nearby. I left work without doing overtime. I had to meet you.
My feet wanted to run. That wasn't the thirty-something Yuli—it was the twenty-year-old me, running toward you.
I hugged you tightly.
— "Let's go home," I said.
We started kissing before even stepping inside. All the way to the bedroom… we never stopped.
You threw me on the bed, smiling.
— "I need a shower," you said.
— "I'm coming too," I replied.
We took a shower together.
It was a long night—clean, pure, passionate.
Saturday morning, we were starving, so we ordered food. We didn't leave the house for two whole days. We didn't even leave the bed. No sightseeing. No plans.
Time belonged to us.
And then Sunday came.
I hugged you tightly. We said goodbye.
But... I didn't know it would be the last time.
— "If I can get time off, I'll come again," you said.
But you never did.
While you were abroad, you never once called. You just liked my photos on social media. Sent a few cold, distant messages.
Two years passed like that.
A few flings came and went in my life. None of them filled the void. Nothing tasted the same. Eventually, I stopped trying. Maybe it was age. Maybe I just didn't care anymore.
Chris came back… but never came to see me.
I think there's someone else in his life now. He still sends messages—every ten days, like clockwork. Always around 9 p.m.
He still writes… but he no longer calls.
I know, Chris. I notice.
This time… it's really different.
Someone new has entered your life.
And I'm no longer in your story.