She’s the only reason I can think of for which fate is cast upon us. That belief has been with me since the day our moms spent that fateful night in the same delivery room together.
I remember one time, after highschool, she asked out loud why we didn’t fall in love after all this time.The way she carefully chose my jeans and fixed the shoulder strap of the bag behind my back made me wonder the same thing as well. Back then, I couldn’t find a way I thought proper to construct a very simple sentence “I’m gay” to say to her, and to myself. But she was there, along with all of the concealed stories that years later we slowly revealed to each other. Maybe we were too childish. Maybe we have changed.
But there this one thing that doesn’t change. As I was departing from her place and going out of that hamlet where my family spent one of their hardest but also happiest part of the lives we shared, I turned around and saw she was still standing there at the front porch. She always does that, every single time I leave, waving and smirking until my presence is completely out of sight.
Although considering her future in another country, with her upcoming marriage to the guy she loves, I guess it will be over soon, the turning around to see her waiting on me to leave, but that part will remain the story I keep from her until the day we finally part.