“I should go back soon,” I murmured over and over.
My hand reached for another sheet of paper. Again and again, I scratched out what I couldn’t say aloud. I’d lost count of how many pages I’d gone through, only for them to end up in the trash.
I folded the better ones into little birds and put them in a jar, mixed in with the other birds I’d made even before he came back. They were all so colorful, the complete opposite of how I felt.
I should’ve sent them to him, but what could I do when my courage was truly as thin as tissue paper? Especially after I’d gone too far. Did I still have the right to say I missed him?
“Then why does it feel so ordinary to someone who claims to be in love? Is my longing fake, Kak?”
My eyes began to fill with tears as I realized how I’d treated this longing all along. How often I’d called out to him, told him about my days, and shared my dreams. How I’d involved him even when he wasn’t there. Oh, how far I’d lost my way!
That day, I’d only stopped for a moment, taking a break to ease my exhaustion. But that was how it began. There was always a reason to stay put. To stain the promise I’d made.
I stared out the window, trying to chase away the tears blurring my vision. Outside, the night carried on as usual. A gentle wind slipped through the window vents. The leaves beside the outer wall rustled against one another, as if telling me the moon had greeted me through the window.
What was he doing now? Maybe he was talking and spending time together with the people who had been waiting for him to come home yesterday, telling them good news and sharing the beautiful gifts he’d brought back from his journey.
I remembered how his smile radiated a happiness that spread to anyone who saw it. His clear, sparkling eyes whenever he told a story. I could even imagine how crowded the place he was visiting must be right now. People surrounding him, filled with joy.
Twenty-six days left before he leaves again.
I let out a heavy breath, as heavy as my steps would be as I made my way back to him. It turned out that knowing the direction wasn’t enough to make someone capable of taking a step.
I stood and walked toward the window. From there, the road outside stretched endlessly into the darkness. I knew there was a place I wanted to reach at the end of it. A place where I could lay down this still-fragile longing.
“Come on, Ana. Make up your mind! Hurry before he leaves again,” I murmured, trying to convince myself.
I pressed my palm against the windowpane. The cold seeped through my skin. I stared intently at the stars in the sky. I had to go back! Then I had to see him. Again! Even if I was covered in stains, even if I’d broken my promise. Hadn’t he already given me another chance?
“You came, Ana?” he asked, slightly surprised. I smiled and nodded.
Then he took me to the nearest park. After ordering two bowls of mixed shaved ice from a street vendor, we sat facing each other on a park bench. I stole a few secret glances at him.
Ah, just look at how brightly his eyes were shining now. His smile widened, revealing a row of clean, white teeth. He was clearly happy to see me, wasn’t he?
The two bowls of shaved ice arrived, interrupting our intimacy. So many different fruits and jellies came together in each bowl, with just the right amount of sweetness to drive away our thirst.
“Thank you for coming back, Ana.”
He spoke before I could say anything. His eyes held mine intently. It was true—there was no judgment in his gaze, only the relief shining through.
I worked up the courage to cup his face with my cold hands. I gazed deeply into his eyes in return. His serene face, the face I’d missed so much—how could he have a heart so vast?
I stood and hugged him tightly without another word. He was startled and staggered slightly.
“Thank you for still letting me come home, Kak.” I felt his arms tighten around me in return. Firm and comforting.
... (To be continued)