— reconnecting with She
real life!
There's an art to the old friend. You give part of yourself to them, hoping they'll protect it. You whisper your secrets to them, trusting they'll hold on to them. You comfort each other, like the night sky whose stars watch over you for eternity. Then, one day, your world upturns, and they vanish. The days seem long and lost without them, but memories soon fade away, and the features of their face and marks on their character begin to mean nothing. You move on, and suddenly, it's Monday morning. The sun, with all its audacity, is bright and loud, shining down on the park's greenery. Adira sits on the bench, peering into her son's stroller. She holds on to his tiny feet and smiles at his dimpled cheeks and upturned lips.
"Adira!" she hears a familiar voice call out. Turning, she watches on as the woman's hair whips from side to side, jogging towards her. She reaches her, and says, almost out of breath, "It's been a long time."
Adira shakes her head, squinting as the sun wars with her eyes. "You think so?"
"I do." She offers a small laugh. "Is that the little guy?"
Adira nods, grinning behind her mask. "It is," she answers, peering down at her son.
"He's so cute!" She exclaims, watching the baby gurgle, legs kicking in excitement.
"Don't let him fool you." Adira rolls her eyes. "He's got a set of lungs on him."
She smiles. "You know your mom used to the same about you. She always had a story about you, Amala and Aden."
"It was something embarrassing every time, too." Adira laughs. "The woman had no filter."
She grins, admiring her old friend as her laughter wanes. "Haven't heard that laugh in a long time."
Adira only offers a shrug. "Like you said, it's been a while."
"Can I say I'm sorry?"
"It would be wasted on me."
She huffs. "You've always had a way with words," She says after a few moments, tilting her head to the side.
"I just don't want you to waste your breath."
"Saying sorry would be wasting my breath?"
Adira forces a laugh. "It's been a long time. I'm not sure you even know what you'd be apologising for."
"I wasn't that good of a friend to you. I did a lot of shit"—She glances at the baby—"that I knew you would forgive me for, because that's the type of person you are. You forgive."
"I forgave you for a reason, and I let go of you for a reason." She flinches. "I think we're better off."
"Maybe," She offers. "A lot's changed since we last saw each other. We're moving out to Georgia soon, you know?" Adira's brows raise in surprise—the only hint at her shock She can see. "And you've got Justin and the little guy. I think we would feel indebted to each other if we were still friends. It would've taken a long time to reach where we are." Adira bobs her head. "I'm just glad so you're happy, 'Dira."
"I'm glad you are, too. That's really all I ever wanted for you."