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02. July

Song: July - Noah Cyrus

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Elle

He looks at my face as if he was blinded by the sun, his eyes squinted together tightly. The both of us slowly stand up straight, his eyes not shying away for a second, as he studies every part of my face to try and come to a conclusion.

"I hope this doesn't sound inappropriate, but do we know each other?" He asks in a calm tone, while his eyes continue to hold mine in his gaze.

My heart starts beating faster. I didn't think this was going to happen. Thoughts cloud my mind, as I keep on looking for the right words to say. But nothing comes out, as all I can seem to think about is the fact that he is standing here in front of me.

Fuck. It's Harry. This is actually Harry.

His long hair is gone, though I'd recognise his face anywhere. I think back to the person I noticed in the crowd, wondering if that was him as well. And now it makes sense. He didn't recognize me. I remember how he looked at me, confusion visible in his eyes. He must've felt the same way I did when I saw him, unsure if he was just seeing things that weren't there. He didn't know it was me. And the same goes for now.

My hair was vastly different and after all he didn't see me for 2,5 years. I changed. And he did too. But now he's here. Standing in front of me, trying to figure out if he knows me. Confusion leads the way as I try and sort out my thoughts but I can't find myself being too happy about it.

I am in a relationship. And this is not good. How he left everything back then wasn't good. And what would I even say to him?

"Oh hey! Nice to see you again, Harry. Oh, I'm just wondering why you didn't text or call me for fucking 2,5 years?" Yeah sure.

It was probably for the best, that he doesn't notice me. My life is complicated enough, and I'm sure my boyfriend wouldn't appreciate a guy in my life, even if we were just friends. The last thing I want right now is to upset him even further.

"Uhm..." I mumble, my eyes now focused on the  floor, as I nervously play around with my fingers.

My thoughts are split in half, a debate between wanting to instantly turn around and run away and talking to him to finally get a long-awaited answer. He affected me when we first met. In a positive way. He was one of the reasons that I started to believe in a better life, one of the reasons I jumped in the cold water, moved to a different country and left my old life behind.

I want to say something. Tell him who I am. Ask him how he's been and what he's been up to. Ask him why he never called or messaged me. Why he just up and left. I want to yell it out.

But I can't. I am too scared. Truth is, maybe it is for the best that he doesn't recognize me. Maybe this is how it's supposed to be.

"I... I don't think so." I mumble out, my eyes focusing on the floor. "Uhm... I... I gotta go." I turn around in an instant, quickly making my way through the café and towards the exit.

"Wait! You-" Walking out the door, into the fresh air I can't hear what he had said at last.

But it doesn't matter. It's too late now. Too late to try and understand what he said; too late to finally get my answer. If he wanted something to do with me, he had 2,5 years to get in contact with me. But he never did. He just fucking left. So I really don't know why I keep on thinking that he would want the slightest bit to do with me.

At this moment, I was glad, that I changed my hair colour, which would be the main factor why Harry didn't recognise me straight away. Going from long brown hair to blonde hair, even though now it's shimmering in a soft Rosé Gold, almost made me look like a completely different person.