I can’t seem to forget you. The smile on your face, bringing out the warmth into your eyes, looks mesmerizing as always. I wanted to reach out and touch your face and hold it in the palm of my hands. But, like it was some forbidden fruit, I held back.
I stole a quick glance at you when I thought you weren’t looking. I still can’t believe it. That I got to see you after all these years. You haven’t changed much. The glasses make you look smarter. When you touch the rim of your glasses and push them up on the bridge of your nose, you remind me of my teacher who first taught me what love is.
I remember the days when I could fearlessly sit next to you, holding your hands. Looking at the way you had painted your nails. Reminding you that I could always help you paint them neatly. I remember our first kiss, when I had slowly reached out and kissed you on the nape of your neck.
You stood transfixed. You turned towards me, slowly, taking your time, while I held on to the precious time and memories we were creating. Your eyes spoke that day. It traveled all over my face. Its trails left a gentle tickle on my skin and I was filled with sensations I never knew I had.
Now, I see the same look I had, on your husband’s face. You quickly made an excuse, took your son and disappeared as quickly as you had come today. Your husband turned to me shyly, and asked, “How are you going to go?”.
I scooped my little daughter into my arms and smiled.
“My husband said he will come pick us up here.”