Happy Ending 1/3 – The Return Of Prince Charming
There are moments in one’s life where the world is turned on its head, when everything you’ve ever believed in is shattered into a million pieces, when who you thought you were is somehow unravelled and what comes out of your mouth is as surprising to you as it is to everyone else. There are those moments; usually painful ones but not always. Moments that change one’s destiny. Moments that define you, redefine you. This is one of those moments.
It was one of those rare afternoons in late March when winter decides to give us a break, when the sun is no longer smothered by clouds and can stretch its rays, gently embracing us with its glorious warmth. I gathered all the pillows and cushions I could find and made myself a Persian throne on my balcony. The glow of the caressing sun, the soothing comfort of tea and the genius of Douglas Adams, I was in heaven. Little did I know that Heaven had other plans.
Millions of miles away in an entirely different galaxy, lost in worlds where the impossible was just one of many possibilities, I heard an echo. Someone was calling out my name. I reluctantly put down my book, feeling as though I was putting it on hold, freezing the action, paralysing its people and let reality set back in. There were people walking up and down the street, pushing prams, eating ice-cream, laughing. The sun had gone down a bit but was still the same majestic sphere of light towering above us like a merciful god. I heard my name again but it wasn’t the harsh, stressed, oscillating English version of my name; it was a softer, flatter, almost hypnotic French caress, like a whisper, like a poem. I stood up and looked down… and there he was, beaming, his eyes sparkling like a million specks of stardust; I felt as though his soul was piercing me through and through. I grabbed the railing of my balcony to steady myself…
I had not seen him in years, not since he moved on with his life, not since we’d said goodbye and I hadn’t had the courage to tell him how I felt. Not since the good friend that I hugged him one last time, knowing that we wouldn’t probably see each other again. When I waved him goodbye, I knew I was waving goodbye to my happy ending. A happy ending that had never got started. I hid my tears and wished him joy and happiness and above all I wished him love. Needless to say, I spent the remaining weekend; cuddled up in bed listening to Whitney’s I will always love you. But there he was, looking up at me with that devastating grin, asking me to buzz him in.
We hugged and I felt like I was home. He put his hands on my face and caressed my cheek. Overwhelmed, I felt myself tearing up but before a single droplet could tarnish the moment, he pressed his lips against mine and I felt my heart being reanimated, as if it was expanding, being flooded with light: a luminous, carnation red, blooming into its full glory. We had never kissed before. But what a kiss it was! What a kiss! It seemed his lips already knew mine, like they were old friends, like they had already tamed each other or that they were just, simply, always meant for one another… Even now, even while writing these words, I can feel them tingling as the memory of that kiss has become part of my physical being, forever embedded into my skin.
