I was standing at the same spot where I waited for my ex to come out for our date more than three years ago. It was at the side of the road, beside two small palm trees. On the other side was the gate to his apartment. The place has changed a bit since then. The payphone that used to be on the wall behind me was now gone. The gate that used to be barely above waist level was now seven feet high. But other than that, everything has pretty much stayed the same.
It was evening then too. It was going to be our first date. We were going to meet properly for the first time. I can still remember my nerves while I stood there. I shifted from leg to leg, taking long drags from my cigarette. I was worried as hell that he won’t like what he would see. I stalled. I smoked one stick first when I got there, then waited a few more minutes before I finally took out my phone and texted him that I was already outside.
I found myself smiling as I recalled the scene. I also had a cigarette in one hand and my phone in the other. And like that night, I was also stalling, taking my time at looking around the place and reminiscing. I recalled how I was in awe when he finally came out and walked to me. He was beautiful. I remembered how we walked together to our date, unaware that we will fall in love and share some of our happiest days together.
But that was more than three years ago. And my cigarette was almost out. I took one last puff before flicking it. I typed at my phone as I started walking.
“Hey Luis, I’m on my way.”