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Diamond
Our memories often lie to us.
You can look back at your life and somehow convince yourself that someone you haven’t seen in ages is still waiting right where you left them. Like they’ve been frozen in time, unable to grow, while we go on with our lives. We hold on to past versions of people because the past is all we have. Until we see them again and realize…
Just because you knew someone then, doesn’t mean you know them now.
That’s how I feel looking at the stranger before me. The man he is now clashes with the boy he used to be, and I blink several times like I’m waiting for him to revert back into the person I knew. He’s shirtless, sporting new tattoos on his neck, chest, and right arm. He’s more buff, too, with well-defined abs and an ever-deeper V-line than I remember.
Like I said, stranger.
But his eyes…
They’re the only thing familiar about him.
That and maybe his lips.
Even his voice sounds rougher as he sits up in bed, looking half-asleep, and rasps, “Dia?”
He’s different.
I’m different.
And yet… it hurts all the same.
I have the reflex of backing away and accidentally bump into the desk behind me. The impact sends the glass lamp sitting on top of it flying off the desk and straight to the floor. The lamp smashes into a thousand pieces.
“Shit.” A low curse escapes his mouth. He starts to rise off the bed to assess the damage, and I distance myself like he carries some sort of deadly virus.
Nope.
Nope.
Nope.
He can’t be here.
He left.
He disappeared without a trace a year ago.
I’m probably sleep-deprived and hallucinating.
Or maybe I’m dreaming?
Yep, that must be it.
A dream.
He. Can’t. Be. Here.
“You’re not here,” I whisper to myself.
Confusion colors his features.
“What?” He tries to move closer, but the glass on the floor quickly deters him.
“You’re not here. You can’t be.” I shake my head, hoping to knock some sense into myself. I blink once, twice, three times, but he doesn’t disappear.
