Cambria's Corner

A/N: I’m not sure how well the formatting on this one will work, especially on mobile. Hopefully it has the desired effect!

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The two lovers whirl and dance. Their bodies press close, and the music thrums in time with their gentle dance. A long, white dress; a fine black suit; a ring, on each’s finger.

The crowd surrounds them, so many people, but their world is small enough for two. Memories flow like mist, and they find themselves at their first dance, years long past.

They see each other as they did back then. It is a party, after school, teenagers doing stupid shit until long past dark. One is there on a date—one is there alone.

A bright, red backpack, and shiny buttons on the matching blouse. This one claimed they had “nothing” else to wear.

I saw that backpack past the crowd.

It was such a vibrant red.

It matched your blouse.

Not quite, beloved.

The memory shifts, as remembrance does. The shirt’s hue changes, and it is now baggy and ill-fitting. The two grow closer now, hands on hips, bodies closer, one of them shy and self-conscious.

It doesn’t feel different.

I never filled it out that well.

That was never the point.

How could it not have been mine?

Time flows onward. They find themselves now at their last dance. They are in their high school gym: a different dress, a different suit, a different dance, and no rings on no fingers yet.

We were so young, then.

We’re still young.

You know what I mean.

I do.

Silence, for a few. They relish the memory, cherish the dance, but they both dread what they know happens next. A broken heart, and broken vows, a love abandoned and lost.

You broke my heart.

I know.

Not even a proper goodbye.

I know.

The years flow by like so much water. So many lovers, so many losses. So much learning, such vibrant lives. The lovers, distant and torn, make their way in the world. 

I never stopped thinking of you.

I know.

I never thought I’d see you again.

I know.

A meeting, by chance, in the grocery store of all places. A bright red backpack catches the eye. Hesitation, and then a chance is taken.

I said hello.

I hoped it wasn’t you.

I said I was sorry.

I said that I knew.

A red backpack is a surprising source of confidence. But things are different now, they’ve both changed. 

That shirt fits you better now.

It does, doesn’t it?

I liked the way it looked before.

I think I did too.

Their first date, then another. A coffee shop, a thrift store, learning each other again. A relationship rekindled… but something is wrong, something is off. Neither can quite tell what at first.

You hadn’t forgiven me. 

Could you blame me?

Never.

But I wanted to.

Trust, hard-forged and harder-earned. It takes time to build, but it forms a love greater than it ever was before.

It was worth every moment.

Every moment with you.

I love you, darling.

I love you, too.

Now back to their dance. Their wedding, in truth. Two lovers whirl and dance, their bodies pressed close. 

And in the corner of their vision, faint enough that they’re not even sure if it’s real, a red backpack, sitting on a chair.