Fire and Silk

29 years old and I haven’t met Jake since then.

That cold day of January.

1998.

It was actually quite funny how, over all the people in this world, I got the chance to meet one of my dearest friends in the small town of Canmore. After my dad was offered a job at the Canmore General Hospital in 1979, me and my family decided that it was best to move into a house that was near his workplace. Moving from Toronto to Alberta was quite a change in my life, and I didn’t like the idea of leaving my friends for a long time. 

I was 16 years old.

I never remember a moment when my father showed affection to me or my older brother. We were never used to seeing a smile on his face, except when we had some family members over for dinner, probably to show them something that he wasn’t. Maybe it was because of the absence of love that made it harder for me to accept the fact that I had to follow him to that small town just so that he could pursue his dream. It may sound selfish, or it can be an actual fact, but at that time, I couldn’t consider my father as such. Maybe it was the fact that, because of that decision, I got to meet one of the best people I’ve ever met so far that I started to forgive my father for his narcissistic behavior.

I met Jake Wilkinson the first day of 11th grade. 

We were in the same math class.

I still remember the first time I met him. 

After taking the books that I needed from my locker, I closed it and headed to my next class. He was there. His curly black hair that decorated his beautiful face was in contrast with his light blue eyes. A big smile formed on his face, probably at a joke that one of his friends made at that moment, followed by the light sound of his laugh. 

It was stunning. 

As he walked past me, his sweet perfume took over all over the area where I was standing, while holding the books with both my hands against my chest. I was so mesmerized by his figure and his persona that I didn’t notice myself standing in the middle of the hallway while looking at him with shining eyes. He must’ve been feeling observed at that moment, as with a smooth movement he turned his head towards me. As our eyes locked together, a small and shy smile took place again in his face, while making a slight bow with his head.

We became friends very fast.

The connection that we had with each other was so strong in such a short period of time that, sometimes, I thought I really liked him. 

Actually, I probably did.

The small study sessions that we spent each day at the library after school, soon turned out to be little dates, which I loved so much. It was like everything was better when Jake was there. The Sun shined brighter in the sky, classes weren’t so heavy anymore, and even my favorite chocolate ice-cream seemed to taste better when we ate it together on a Sunday afternoon.

I may have been too soft for him, but I could never deny the crawly feeling that I would feel in my stomach every time I came in contact with him very closely. A feathery warmth would take place in my chest, making my heartbeat faster and rushing blood to both of my cheeks, showing the fact that I was timid in his close presence. 

He loved it.

I think we dated for about a year, or something like that.

However, when university started, reality hit me hard. I had to work every day after school as I didn’t want to rely completely on my parents and their money, which meant that I had the rest of the time just to study. Being in medical school was hard.

No matter what situation we were in, we still tried to be in contact with each other every time we were free.

I thought we were a special couple.

I thought that maybe, if we put enough effort in our relationship, we would still be together. 

It was around that period when my relationship with Jake started to fall apart. 

We didn’t really have a proper break up as far as I can remember. We just stopped seeing and texting each other. I could feel his presence that was missing in my life every day, and I genuinely hoped that it was the same for him for a long period of time. It could’ve been selfish of me to think so, but I really wanted Jake to miss me.

To miss us.

After I graduated, I decided to move to a small apartment in New York, since I found a good job there. Other than that, I finally got to be independent and to make decisions for myself, without my father imposing his own wishes, which were more like orders, on everything that I did.

It was probably a week after I moved into my new house, that a letter reached my door. Curiosity was all over me, as I saw the letter in a shiny envelope, decorated with small golden flowers in the right corner. I couldn't think of anyone actually sending me this letter, and for a short time, I thought that it wasn’t meant to be sent to me. 

However, as I read the content of the mysterious letter, my eyes slowly widened.

After years of trying to forget and to leave behind everything that had to do with him, it seemed like the past didn’t want to leave me alone for a little bit more.

It was an invitation letter. 

Jake was getting married to my best friend next month.

1998.

That cold day of January.

29 years old and I haven’t met Jake since then.