He was just a man in the midst of a foreign city, walking through the unknown paths with uncertain steps and a certain heart. His mind was set to explore as time had finally allowed him to live the dream he had kept alive from days far before. Wandering, learning, exploring and escaping.. These things that fascinated him, these strangers, the foreign land, their languages and the unknown places. A sense of adventure mixed with wonder.. These things that called to him with their humming tune. He was a child happily lost in his wonderland. Away from the town he knew like the back of his hand, from the people he could read even in his sleep, from the life that he lives each day every day.
This was what he thought he was supposed to finally do, to finally be able allowed to live his dream away from the world that was his without any burdens, just he and his wanderlust.
He was never supposed to get a look of her. And maybe if he had walked the street a few minutes later or she had took the turn a few moments earlier, he would never have seen her. But if such maybes are taken into considerations, then maybe if the sky were a little more yellower that morning or if the cafe nearby was a little busier or maybe if the wind was blowing with a little more chill his story would have been different. Who knows?
But as it seems, he didn't walk the streets a few minutes later and she took the turn at the precise moment for him to be able to catch a good glimpse of her. And as it always would be, a glimpse was enough for him to know it was her.
There she was, standing and appreciating the paintings that an artist was displaying on the street-side unaware of the fact that he was there too just a few steps away, unaware that she just by being there she had changed his destiny again, unaware that she was an art much more grand than any painted there.
He wanted her to turn. He wanted her to turn and allow her grass green eyes to fall on him again, to see his face that was the same as ever, to be in the same heart-beating situation as him. He wanted her to know that he still was the same bespectacled, untamed hair boy she knew. He wanted her to turn and see him standing there with all there shared past. The past that he had kept alive in him with knowing that he did. The past that was never supposed to be past. The past that once both wanted to be there present.
He stood there struggling with his own mind and soul trying to figure out the right thing to do. Should he leave or should he stay? Should he walk to her or should he let her be? Should he wait? But wait for what? Wait for her to turn? Or wait for her to leave? Or for him to repent? Or maybe for the sky to be a little more yellower? Or not?
"Lily", he called out unable to hold himself with their past any longer.