(23 24 25 26 27 numbers all went back to zero, they don’t seemed to make sense anymore. Was I to leave today or tomorrow? Did I even wanted to go?
Anxious with last nights haircut and the awkwardness of being back.
How foolish of me to get that Cleopatra fringe again, what’s worst was that funny short bob haircut by mum.
The days spent counting and now I was only four hours away, the one soul I cling on to half way across the globe. Jittery. I fumbled around with that liquid eyeliner that came along when I bought the colour correction palette. Exactly thirty minute spent in the washroom fixing that stupid liner that seemed wayyy too much on my eyelids and then another hour or so on the train. I carried that colourful bird with me, with my colourful backpack that I’ve always dreamt to backpack with. The closer I get the less I wanted to reply to your messages. For months now you were just a voice, a blurred image.
1:40 I got off then went straight to the restroom, my eyelids looked terrible, I did not pull of that rocker bob head girl, oh well. Then I lift my head up and there you were, arms out looking straight at me. White shirt, black backpack, black hat, my brain automatically picked up. And then I could not remember my first impression of you clearly anymore. Sitting in the dark staircase, head turned away, the most disheveled flip flops. Not quite fit but not fat either. Dazzling face but Troubled, unwilling to make conversations. So I blurted out some unimportant things. You pulled me close and we hugged tightly, I remember you telling me that you would pull me up and swing me around but oh well. Then you told me how awfully heavy my makeup looked and I told you I’ll remove it the second I got the chance.
I couldn’t wait to hold your hand.