Carolina and The Fan Non-fiction | H.S

Ten

November 12, 2016

Early morning

Chandler House, Colonnade, Bloomsbury

No goodbye is perfect. Goodbyes barely make up for the sadness of leaving. So, I don't wait for a longer later. I decided that later is now because I needed to feel that all of this was real. I open the front pocket of my backpack and got the polaroid he wrote on. It's the one with the hanging plants.

"Whatever happens tomorrow, we've had today."

—David Nicholls, One Day

I let out a chuckle. Harry really loves his sweet flicks. There's also this cute, obvious struggle in his penmanship to fit all the words in the white space of the photograph.

I heaved. We really did only have today. The last few hours. The lingering time. I was right to put up a precaution in my head. I was right to take those moments as they happened and forget, just for a little bit, what happens after. Because I presently feel more appreciation than sorrow.

I take the other polaroids. Sitting by the doorway inside the building, I feel like in the wrong place, but that's the least important thing in my mind. Now that I'm alone, I can just let everything settle in my head. Maybe smile bigger, be sadder, and feel a bit crazier. All while I'm not ready to enter my flat yet.

I stare at the picture we were both in. We had our tongues out, nose scrunched up playfully, with peace signs thrown.

I flip to the next and I feel my heart skip a beat upon seeing the familiar ink of my marker. He had written on another polaroid, on the one of his Little Mermaid skit.

"You should be kissed and often, and by someone who knows how."

—Clark Gable to Vivien Leigh in Gone With The Wind

You should be kissed and often. You should be kissed and often. You should be kissed and often. Vivien. Gone With The Wind.

"Your name, love," he clarified.

"It's Vivien."

"Lovely name," he complemented.

"Gone with the wind," I added, vaguely.

"Oh, I get it, I get it," he spoke, his voice a tad higher, probably awe-stricken after he pieced the two and two, "Vivien Leigh."

"My mom loved her and the movie Gone with the Wind of course," I explained.

My mind swirled in all directions. The quote, the reference, my name, the first time we ever talked, the moment we almost kissed, the kiss on the forehead, the goodbye.

If coming-of-age stories ever taught me anything, it's that young adults have this risk-taking spirit. I always thought it would never be useful on other things except when I tried a drink, or drove faster than usual, or did bungee jumping. I didn't expect it would be useful for kissing and that it would be the source of my regret now.

I should've kissed him.

I should've let him kiss me.

I'm an idiot.

We only had today.

I let my fears have today as well, worse luck.

I swallow the lump of fear and regret in my throat as I stand up, letting my backpack lean against the first step of the stairs in the building. I turn to face the door again. He's not there. He's not going to be there anymore. You just want fresh air. I calmed myself.

The cold knob sends shivers.

Perhaps, we could still have a little bit of today.

a/n:

I wonder what happens next?

Here's a good song for the chapter:

I'm Here - Sweet Talk Radio

Wishing everyone's well
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