I was wearing a pink dress when we first met. I couldn’t remember your attire because I was sleepy. It was our final interview for our first job. I was looking at the big glass window when you interrupted my day-dreaming.
“Hi, is this your final interview, too?” you sat next to me. With much shyness, I confirmed. You asked about my background and you were obviously delighted when you heard that we came from the same school. You asked a lot of questions about me and I was beginning to feel annoyed by your over-confidence. I was relieved when the HR staff called your name. It took you some 20 minutes for the final interview. Our batch mates were cheering for you when you went out of the interview room. I tried not to make eye contact but that quick glance at you opened another chance for a brief talk. Not wanting to appear rude, I asked how the interview was.
“It was easy and I think they liked me,” you replied boastfully. I just smiled. I used to be painfully shy. You sat next to me and placed your hand on top of my knee. I blushed. You tapped my knee and told me that you needed to go.
Ah, that was our first meeting. It was nothing special but full of awkwardness. If I see you again after a decade of separation, would you still sit next to me and spend some time to ask me how the years have been kind or unkind to me? Would I still give you a quick glance or a long and deep stare to let you know how much I miss you?