The only thought that gripped my mind was, would she still recognize me?
By now my longing for her had taken root as a dull ache inside, twisting and churning everytime I saw other more fortunate guys on the street. Back in my school days she was always with me, wherever I went, always by my side. Army soon put an end to that, and I think I never really adjusted to her absence. I told myself that I had to move on, adapt to life as it was, but while I might have fooled everyone else, there was still one person I couldn't quite convince.
Would things be the same? Would time apart have changed our dynamics irrevocably? Sometimes it felt as if there were just too many obstacles between us, as if all the effort I could muster wouldn't even give me a glimpse of her. Yet every time I thought I had worked her out of my system, some small thing would trigger all the memories again. Such exquisite pain as I've never known.
And now, the prospect of meeting her again. It seemed so very unreal.
The guy at the counter somehow seemed to empathize with me, and the kindred expression he wore comforted me somewhat. "It is time," he said, "and you can come this way." For all the times he has helped poor separated couples like me and her reunite, I wondered if he ever truly understood how we felt, the storming sea of emotions we had to quell constantly. For his sake, I wished he didn't.
The next I looked, I spotted her. Tears came to my eyes, unbidden.
When our gazes interlocked a lot of words suddenly became unnecessary. Yes, eventually we would have to work around clumsy conversations to fully reintegrate, but for now it didn't matter. The moment I saw her expression I knew that there was still hope for us, that there was space in both our lives for each other, and that was all that mattered.
Just both of us together, beginning the rest of our lives. My Pink IC and I.
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