They say that if something belongs to you, no matter where you go or how far you've been, someday it will eventually come back to your side.
All you have to do is endure the wait, but waiting is painstaking in itself. Waiting is an implicit promise that gives elusive hope. How long are you supposed to wait? One day? Two months? Three years? Or maybe as long as a decade just so you can see him again? To glimpse at him from afar, to have a whiff of his intoxicating scent, to hear the gut-wrenching timbre of his voice.
And what if he finally does show up in front of you—real to the touch and concrete to the eyes?
The memories you had of him then might not be the person he became today. Life draws rough edges on everyone, whether you like it or not. So, are you ready to accept the change, for better or for worse? No matter the person he was then, no matter the person he is today, will you still fall in love with him like you did the very first time?
The beauty of first loves cannot be replicated, so how will you go about it?
Cherish the precious second chance or callously throw it away?