Adobe Photo Stock.
EXCERPT:
I arrive at the Gulf Port bus station around four or five Friday evening; breathe in the salty, ocean-damp air while the soft winds whip my hair in and out of my eyes. On our one year anniversary, we came to the beach and wrote our names together in the sand. I ran around like a maniac pulling a flimsy kite through the hurricane-strengthened winds, chased off the scavenger pigeons and crept towards a fearless pelican, twirling in circles until till I faced him smiling. We were so happy hugging in the cool air.
“Are you waiting for me?” asks Martin.
“Well, yes.” I say wanting to smile.
I’m not unhappy to see him; but you’d think by now I would’ve learned to muster a fake smile so he doesn’t sense I’m nervous. Guys are more open to giving second chances if they think you’ve been living your daily life alone, without a care. I give him a brief hug and follow him to his car.