At that
moment, all she ever wanted was to see you in that corner where you once plan
to meet her after almost 3 years of being out of each other’s radar. Yes, just
a mere sight of you would be enough. And perhaps that would be coupled with
small talks that would mean nothing right after a bottle or two.
Every sip
of beer she was having that night reminds her of the beauty that she thinks
only her can see and understand. The beauty that made her admire you the first
time she saw you—the beauty that went beyond the curves and the lines of your
body when she started knowing you through your unspoken poetries.
She never asked for your wholeness. She never
wanted to depend the deepness of her inhales on the strength of your exhales.
Perhaps, it’s really just the sight of you, the small talks with you, the
tragic tales you share over drinks, and maybe, just maybe, that warmth you
unconsciously gave when your arms met hers during that deep slumber.
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