I had wondered often what it would be like to see you again. And so the day came. I watched you up ahead. You weren’t to know that I was a few feet behind you. I watched, taking in all that was familiar and noting nothing different in particular in your mannerisms and in your body. I wondered if you were to turn around and our eyes were to meet what would pass between us.
It was difficult to concentrate after I noticed you. My chest tightened as if a hand larger than life had a grip around my soul, tugging and twisting ever so slightly, trying to take possession of it. I had wondered how I would feel, what emotion would overtake me when this day came.
Others around me moved about and chatted one with another. Unsure if I should make my presence known, I prolonged conversations unnecessarily. I finally gathered the courage and the strength to walk away. Just as my path brought me closer to you, you looked over the shoulder of the one with whom you were talking and you looked at me. Your face opened in expression and your lips parted as if to speak. You had known all along that I was there. You said nothing yet a look of resignation settled on you as you refocused your attention.
And so the day came when I saw you again. The hand around my heart is still there.