The end of Summer-Prologue
Is it lame to be standing in the pouring rain, ducked behind a car, waiting for him to finish dinner with his new friends?
I don’t need an answer to that. It is not a rhetorical question.
My phone buzzes. I look at the bright screen that provides the only illumination to the darkness around. It’s “sweet” Linda. Again.
I am too stressed and anxious to answer her right now so I put the phone away and go back to stare inside the window of the restaurant, where he is eating.
Is that really MY Oliver that is eating in there with those strangers?
Then I remind myself that he is the stranger now. So much time has passed since we last saw each other he might not even recognize me if he saw me.
My heart pounds hard in my chest as I look at his impeccable shiny long black hair and tantalisingly perfect hairline. How could he once have been mine, I wonder as my heart sinks deep into a pond of sadness and longing it knows far too well.
It’s been so long, I think as nostalgia strangulates me harder than it has in years.
I never thought I would be back here, the island where we met back in high school. And yet here I am, standing in the pouring rain, crouched behind a car, stalking the one who got away. My first love, my first kiss, my first heartbreak.
He laughs while staring at the girl next to him. She places her hand on his arm and leans slightly towards him, burying her face in his arm for a second. A cascade of violet hair slips on her face.
My stomach churns and I want to puke. My heart wants to leave my body. My brain is in too much shock to lament.
I used to be the one who knew everything about his life. I used to be his best friend. And she was just a pawn on the sideline waiting for her moment, which I thought, would never come, because me and him were meant to be forever.
Yet there she is all these years later, next to him with her head lightly placed on his shoulder, while I am just a creepy stranger stalking them while they are sitting inside the restaurant.
They don’t even know I am here. And if they did, I don’t know if he would rejoice at my sight, seeing me again after all these years, or if he would ask his security to escort me away.
The uncertainty kills me.
He once took me here for Valentine’s day. He said this was his secret place and he had never taken anyone here before.
But those were different times. He was a DIFFERENT person back then.
Why is he acting like he has never been the person he was before?
Another guest enters the restaurant now. I recognize her. Her name is Marzia and she is a semi famous youtuber. With 200000 subscribers I would consider her to be a famous person since the number of subscribers I have is 0. But I guess compared to the big names it is fair to classify her as semi-famous.
Oliver is famous famous. His name is up there with the ones of the A-list celebs stars. Everyone in the world who has access to wifi knows who he is.
It wasn’t enough to be suffering a common case of heartbreak. The person who broke it had to be so much better than me in any way.
I feel humiliated.
Marzia sits down. She looks worried. I can see her lips moving frantically as she removes her coat. Everyone else looks uneasy.
I wonder what they are talking about. Demonetization on videos that bring no value into this world but make kids become dumber each day? I could see that as good reason to demonetize a video but they probably don’t.
Everyone turns their head in my direction. Marzia points a finger. Suddenly I realize it.
They see me.
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