Love by Julia Homeniuk

I still remember that day.

The day our eyes met, the day the world stopped. A gust of wind hit me as the cupid’s arrow pierced through my heart. You were standing in the hallway at the college campus, talking to our English professor as he flipped through some papers. Your eyebrows were furrowed, you always had that look of dissatisfaction on your face, even when there was still no mark of academic hardships you would face soon. You stared at me with strictness and a glimpse of friendliness in your gaze. I smiled at you. That bit of friendliness was enough for me to fall head over heels for you.

We met at the cafeteria. And in the class. And in the library. Only there, you gave me a faint smile while explaining to me some lecture material. There you held my hand. There your gaze would soften, more and more with each day, and there you would give me more and more smiles. And I would treasure them forever. We would share our secrets past a certain hour, catching glances of disapproval from the librarian, and watching sparkles twinkle in each other’s eyes.

When the semester was about to end, we went on a date to the park. We stayed at my place afterwards. We had our first sleepover. And our first kiss. Your nose tickled mine with its coldness, so I forced you to sleep under a woollen blanket.

We would hang out at my place every day since then. And one day, before the end of the year, you told me: “I want to be a professor”. You then smiled when I told you I wanted to do the same thing. 

Then the final year came. We were at my place, planning our life together. You were still smiling, but your gaze was still hiding something. And then, suddenly, you said: “I want to be of use. I want to go back.” 

I haven’t heard from you since. It’s been so long since you left for your home country, yet the shooting still hasn’t stopped. Tell me, how is volunteering going? Are you in good health?

I still visit that part every day. I’m still waiting for you.

With love. Please, stay safe.