Meet Me Where the Ocean Touches the Sky

Chapter 1: Memories, Within Temptation

'Brilliant. Please take your time and let us know if you need any assistance leaving the plane but do bear in mind that we are on a tight schedule. The cleaning crew are waiting just outside the aircraft. We don't want to delay the next boarding group.'

So much for compassion. It's tempting to point out all the things that are wrong in his statement, but I keep quiet. I don't want to be that girl. Instead, I collect my belongings and drag my feet all the way to the exit. I'm sure he's laughing hard from where he is. He probably would still remember the silly things I professed when we were teenagers about when this very day would come. How I would never show up at mum's funeral or that I'd read out the most honest (and probably offensive) eulogy in the history of eulogies. He was supposed to be there for that too. He was planning on telling dad jokes.

It's not even mum's death that makes me this sad and pathetic. It's realising that on the inside, I'm still the same. I'm still living with the survivor's guilt. What I have achieved in the last five year, the life I've built in Oslo, doesn't seem to matter. The worst part is, I don't even know how my life could be any different. I've done everything I could to get on with my life like he would have wanted. But it looks like I'm going to have to accept that maybe this is my life now. That the void he left will always be there.

The one good thing about being the last passenger to leave the plane is that I'm mostly by myself. I stop to use the loo, study my face in the mirror, and I can't help but think about how Danny will react when he sees me. I know I'm different. My blonde hair is a lot longer and full of highlights. I rarely straighten it now: I've learnt to tame and love my loose curls. My body got fuller in different places. I have nothing in common with Lena. I don't have the same wild and effortless beauty that had men, my brother included, drool all over. Don't get me wrong: I don't have any self-esteem issues. I love who I've become, how the things I've been through made me who I am. But I also know that I'm not Danny's type.

It's almost silly. To care about what he might think. To still wish he would want me in the same way that I want him. I did date once I felt settled in my new life. I even had a boyfriend for a little over a year. It didn't work out though and it was neither of our fault. Maybe that's to be expected when you're still consumed by the memory of another man.

My phone vibrates in the back pocket of my jeans. Another sigh escapes my lips. I move my cold hands out of the range of the sensor that kept the burning hot water running. I quickly dry them and check my phone.

DH: Hei! Sorry I'm late! The board says your plane landed nearly an hour ago.

DH: Hope you're not on a train

I watch as the three dots appear and disappear in the chat. I notice how he picked up my habit to spell "Hello" in Norwegian. Then the message he was holding back, or overthinking, comes through:

DH: I'm here now x

A lump forms in my throat. I'm here now. I can't blame him for all the times he wasn't. But it still makes me sad to remember how much I needed him. And how he wasn't there. How he didn't even try to make me stay.

I blink away the tears that started to prickle my eyes and type:

CE: Hei! I'm still here. You know me Heller: taking my sweet time.

CE: I should be another 10-15 min. See you then x

DH: Phew! See you soon

Suddenly everything feels more real. Danny is closer to me than he's been for years. He's waiting for me. Now I feel the urgency to be on the other side. To hug him. It's like if I don't act now, the opportunity will be gone forever.