If my memory serves me well, it was the second summer when I went back to Germany for a two-months holiday stay. And this is a letter to a German love....
It was 7 a.m. when the sun barely shines and lids drooping and leaden with sleep. I put on my trainers, ready for a run like usual. Romantic Rhine, the loveliest place on Earth. I can still remember the bakery near the river which baked the best bread, the stunning views flipping past when I ran pass 40 medieval castles, picturesque villages and terraced vineyards. Then, it was you.
You were always there, alone, sitting on the park bench quietly under that large pink blossoming tree. Loamy fragrance, it was your left hand holding a pencil, I can remember, cause I will never forget the silver ring carved ‘Mike & Sophie’ on your left middle finger. You glanced at my way every time I ran by, I always wondered why…
Then falling petals bided farewell to sweet summer and beckoned the autumn in, like the moving hand of a click, they mark time in their own chaotic way, and I’m soon leaving the country. I tried to ignore your presence, but couldn’t help peeking at you. You had the kind of face that often stopped me in my tracks. And when you looked up simultaneously, my heart raced like it was going to burst. I bet you had already noticed the flush on my cheeks, as I saw you watching me through skittish wide eyes before you disappeared from my sight.
Don’t know if you remembered the evening when I plucked up the courage and said hi. We had a great riverboat cruise later that afternoon. I asked but you refused to give me your name, explaining in sorrow and regretful that you had gotten a girlfriend in England. I sat in silence till the cruise ended and told you that I had a boyfriend but I like you anyway…It was a lie.
We went back together. It was a great night, even if you left without saying a word the morning afterwards. I was not mad or anything, but rather feeling unfair as I noticed my feeling for you. I let it go the day I got on the plane.
It was this morning, when I flew back to Germany and found my bag under the bed. Unintentionally I checked the interior, found this drawing of me running, and retrieved my memories of you.
You were no longer there, but me and my partner under the falling petals from the waving tree you used to sit under. Fate makes me meet you and leave you, thanks for the summer we had spent together.
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