“It’s been five years now,
and I don’t know what would happen
if I run into you
in one of those crowded bus stations
with many souls getting ready
to be boarded, to have the trip of their lives—
getting in and out of the same city
where we coexisted for years,
under the same busy lights—
or maybe, just maybe,
waiting for their loved ones to arrive.

Many times, I imagined
different scenarios in my head.
Continuously playing how it would feel,
Or how I would react—
would I compliment your hair first
now that you decided to keep it long and it suits you?
Would I admire how you hold yourself now,
being strong, independent, and almost regal?
Or would I be overwhelmed by everything
I ever practiced to say
while my heart races and my palms sweat
and just maybe the words I wanted to utter,
will never make it out of my mouth?

What if after five years,
I run into you
in one of those crowded bus stations,
and I’ll tell you that
I have a drawer full of unsent post cards;
I wrote to you
from the different places I’ve been to?
That I still have all the ticket stubs from
all the metro rides we had
from this same city
where we coexisted for years
under the same busy lights?

That everyday, for the past five years,
I’ve been sighing over all the wonderful places I’ve been to
because the sunsets are never as beautiful
as that I watched when I travelled with you—
not knowing it was our last adventure too?

What if after 5 years, I run into you
in one of these crowded stations,
while many are getting ready
to be boarded, to have the trip of their lives
and while I wait for the love of my life—

just in case we bump into each other
and I ask you to come back and stay,

would you?”

— Chard Christopher