November, 2020.
I wonder how we'll end up telling this story.
"That was Sarah. She was almost Freddy's Missus," - Said Tata, pointing at a girl in a yellow dress in one of the photos from the old family album.
"They were this close," - she elaborated while showing me with her fingers how close Sarah and Freddy had been to getting married.
"That's very close," - I responded with a bitter smile.
Tata shrugged.
I didn't ask questions because I immediately got lost in my thoughts. How could it be that two people loved each other so much to be "that close,"? and how tragic was it that their love was somehow not enough to be together in some form of forever?
Touché, I suppose.
I wonder how we'll end up telling this story.
Will I be your almost? Will you be mine?
Will someone say one day that we were "this close"?
I don't know, X. I don't know.
All I know is that a good spot to watch the sunset in this city is really damn hard to find, but even from this sad bench next to the river, the sky looks perfect.
An entire palette of pastel colors paints the evening sky. My favorite is the bit where I can see the purple and yellow swirls of clouds mixed together. Over there, right next to the bridge where Google promised I'd catch the best view, and now I realize, lied.
Goodbye, city. It's sad to think I didn't enjoy you, but I assure you it wasn't your fault, you're lovely.
