It will just be like any other day. I’d be going on with my own business as you’d go on with yours. We’d both be busy focusing on our own lives, being our candid effortless selves that we don’t realize something magical is about to happen.
I’d be sitting in the corner of a coffee shop half listening to my friends as they talk about clothes on sale, half reading thesis papers due next week. While you’d just be arriving, bumping fists with your “bros” who are seated at the opposite side of the cafe.
As I absentmindedly reach out for my pen, I’d knock down a glass of tea, spilling its contents over half the desk and on my shirt. My friends would laugh, telling me to take it easy and help me sort my things while I try to apologize for my clumsiness and laugh with them. I’d excuse myself to go to the restroom and try to do some damage control. “What is life,” I’d say to myself.
You, on the other hand, would excuse yourself to get a drink from the counter. You’d order Macchiato frappe, thinking you need something cold for today. You’d patiently wait for your coffee while scrolling through your phone.
After I decide that I finally look somewhat “presentable,” I’d head back toward where my friends are laughing at something a friend said. Your order would be ready and you’d head back to your friends, too. “Darn, I still look a bit messy,” I’d mumble to myself as I attempt to straighten up my already wrinkled blouse and you’d be busy texting your sister telling her not to stay out too late.
We’d still be preoccupied on what we’re doing that we accidentally bump into one another. “Ow!” I’d say, touching my nose which bumped into your collar bone. “Sorry,” you’d say in response. “It’s okay, it’s not your..” I’d be about to tell you when I’d notice that you spilled your drink a little. I’d panic and profusely apologize while you softly laugh and stare at me adoringly. I’d look up, after cursing myself for being clumsy and meet your eyes while you say “Hey, relax. No harm done” with a smile. My breath would hitch a little at that smile, and I’d smile, too.
You’d introduce yourself, “Hi, I’m ——” and would offer your hand. “Ugh, hi I’m Liane,” I’d say in return as I shake your hand. You’d offer me a drink and I’d politely decline, pointing out that I have friends waiting. You’d glance at our table where my friends would be staring at us with curious eyes and your eyes would dart back to me. “Umm, I have to go. Sorry again,” I’d say as I start walking toward our table. “No biggie. It was nice meeting you, though,” you’d say and there goes that cute smile again.
I’d blush a little as I reach my friends’ table where I’d be bombarded with questions about who you are and if I know you. I’d tell them we just bumped into each other and met there. You, on the other side, would be teased by your friends, too, with them casually throwing glances at our table and play punching your arm. You’d fake being hurt, sneak a peak at me and smile. And just like a reflex, I’d smile, too, in return.
Weeks later, I’d be running late for thesis consultation and you’d be on your way to the gym. You’d see me first and call my name. I’d be distracted and cramming, but would look around to see who’s calling me. Then I’d see you, approaching and flashing that smile that I like. We’d exchange hellos and how are you’s. You’d jokingly tell me you found me again and you’d ask me out for coffee. Again I’d refuse and tell you I’m running late for something. You’d nervously ask for my number and I’d give it to you, without second thoughts. Later would I doubt if what I did was right.
Days after that, I’d receive a message saying “Hey :),” and my heart would skip a beat, getting that inkling that this text might be from you. And it is. “This is______, btw :) ” I’d reply “Well hello to you, too stranger :) ” We’d be exchanging messages from then on, talking about the most random things: about something funny that happened at work, about something interesting we found on TV. Everything. It would feel like we’ve known each other for years, not weeks. Then we’d set our first date.
We’d have dinner and again, talk. Talk about dreams, ambitions and many more. After we’re full (in terms of food and talk), you’d take me to the beach. By that time you’d know that the beach calms me. We’d sit at the hood of your car and talk about constellations. You’d tell me about your childhood, about how you broke your arm from falling from a tree, and you’d ask about my studies. I’d say I’m about to give up and you’d tell me not to because I’m on the right track.
We’d go to numerous dates after that. Usually we’d just enjoy chilling and talking about things going on with our lives. But from time to time we’d go on adventures like mountain trekking and cliff diving. We’d enjoy challenging ourselves, though it would mean we’d be scared sh*tless.
We’d know each other well enough by that time. You’d tell me about your problems, and I’d share about my fears. We’d be each other’s support system. Most importantly, we’d be really good friends. I’d be your cheerleader and you’d motivate me to keep going with my studies. We’d push one another to be the best version’s of ourselves.
One perfect afternoon, I’d be chilling by the beach watching the sunset with you. I’d sigh happily as we sit in comfortable silence feeling the sand beneath our feet. I’d look up at the sky, thinking of how content I am at the moment. How I’d never imagined I’d be feeling that insanely happy.
You’d be pensive as you stare at the waves. I’d return to reading my favorite book, smiling, and then look up to find you staring at me. I’d ask you why you’re giving me that look and you’d just smile at me like I’m your favorite person in the world. I’d smile back as you fix the hair straying on my face. The setting sun’s rays would be highlighting your face in that moment and again I’d be thinking about how crazily possible it is to be in that perfect moment, with the most beautiful guy I know.
As if reading my mind, you’d just take my hand effortlessly like it’s perfectly made for yours. I’d lay my head on your shoulder and you’d lay your head on top of mine.
There would be no words. Only a realization that sometime, somewhere in the middle of our busy lives we found one another.
And in this world of hurt where people are so caught up trying to feel and care less, where most do not believe in love and fairytales, we believe in ours.