In five years time, you're standing at a traffic light when you notice her. She's wearing a floaty summer dress, and a little sapphire pendant on her neck.
Her head bobs along to a song you can't hear and you find yourself wondering if she listens to the songs that remind her of the past. You wonder if she still longs of what she had before falling asleep every night.
Her eyes open a little wider as if adjusting to your existence as if you were the last person she expected to see here, and then she smiles.
Her hair looks different, not in colour or the style, but the way it frames her face.
She doesn't look so timidly cute when she says 'hey' and offers you a confident grin. It takes you back. It hits you hard and you can't breathe, it feels as if someone punched you straight through the chest.
There is no much time for talking as you walk past each other. And when she walks past, you can't help but turn and watch.
You wonder who holds her tight at night, or who laughs at her inappropriate jokes.
Five years ago she told you that she loved you, today you almost say it back.