The Way I Am Now (The Way I Used to Be)

I get out of the shower and wipe the steam from the mirror. I look at myself for the first time in a long time. I’m almost surprised to see that it’s still my face, my eyes, looking back at me. My hair, my body, my tattoo, my scars. “This is you,” I whisper to myself.

I barely even pay attention as I get dressed; I’m so focused on getting there. I don’t want to wait any longer.

I take the path he brought me on that night—our first real date—and I follow it past all the plants with names and the willow tree, and I pick up my pace when I see the clearing up ahead. This time, though, there’s no water splashing, no lights, no sounds. Because it’s still supposed to be winter, despite the unseasonably warm weather of the evening.

When I get there, I think I’ve arrived first. But then I see him sitting on the bench inside the alcove of the apple fountain, looking ahead. As I step closer, I see that he has something in his hand. I try to stay light on my feet. And it’s only when I’m right behind him that I see what he has. It’s a dandelion, and he’s blowing on it, watching the little seeds fly off high into the air. I look around and see that dandelions have sprouted up all around the perimeter of the fountain, just over the past few days of sunny weather, just for us, it seems.

For this.

I walk up behind him, slide both of my hands onto his shoulders, and lean forward to kiss his cheek. “I hope you’re making wishes when you do that.”

He turns his head to look at me, already smiling.This is the property of Nô-velDrama.Org.

“I was,” he says. “Don’t worry.”

He takes my hand from his shoulder and brings my wrist to his mouth to kiss my tattoo. Then he leads me around to the front of the bench, where I take a seat next to him.

“Well, just one wish, actually,” he adds.

“Do you think it’ll come true?” I ask.

“It did. You appeared.”

I have appeared, I think to myself, and smile as I interlace my arm with his, pulling him closer to me.

“This is a good place,” I tell him.

“For what?”

“To be ready,” I answer. And then I take his hand in mine. I squeeze once. He looks down at me and squeezes back, two light pulses. I repeat myself, clearly this time, no questions, no doubts. “I’m ready.”