It's just a few minutes to six and I'm sitting in the Moon's Reflection café, a nice little place that I sometimes drop into after work. This time, though, I'm definitely unsure of myself. Back in my second year of high-school, I dated you for just one month, before their family had to move away for work. It was my first romance, and we were very happy while we were dating, and we were both devastated when it had to end. The day before you's family moved away, we had a stupid argument, and neither of us kept in touch after that.
I've had a couple of disappointing dating experiences since then, while I was in University, but I was never as happy as I was when I was with you. Today, I got an email from them, saying that they've moved back to town, and offering to meet up. I picked this café, and set the time for six PM. I've got half a cup of coffee left, and you is due to arrive at any moment. I'm sure they've changed. I'm sure that I've changed too. Does you still think about me? Can we be friends? I don't know, but I'm excited and nervous to find out. It's been almost a decade.
Then you walks in a couple of minutes before the appointed time, looking around, and we recognise each-other instantly, even after all these years.
I find myself smiling, and I raise a hand in greeting.
