She is leaving tomorrow

It was a sunny day. I caught the bus to go home from my university as usual. I picked an empty seat and listened to music from my Ipod. It was not the rush hour so that I had that luxurious comfort. I enjoyed that ordinary happiness as I had learned the way to feel happy with simple little things since a year before. Having dinner with my family and watching news on TV made me happy. Attending a class with my classmates and feeling my appearance in the wheel of life made me happy. Hanging out with my friends and drinking lemon tea next to St.Joseph Cathedral made me happy. I had just realized the appearance of happiness in those ordinary moments after my first love story ended. She came and went like a gentle breeze passing through my life, and memories about her would never faint in my mind. I supposed that time would erase her image in my mind but I was wrong. Sometimes, memories of the short-lasting love which was not longer than a month suddenly woke up vividly after a long sleep. Sometimes in my dreams, I felt tight hugs from behind, then woke up with bitterness as they were just dreams… I still listened to my favourite songs with my eyes watching scenes outside the window moving backwards. My soul was wandering somewhere far far away. My eyes looked but seemed to see nothing, my ears listened but seemed to hear nothing. Suddenly, I startled as I heard a voice seemed to echo from the past: “Hi!”. The voice was from the seat next to me. I did not want to turn back. That sweet voice scared me. Still, I turned back and saw the one I didn’t want to see: my first lover.

“I haven’t seen you for a long time,” she said.

“Right!” I replied indifferently.

A gentle smile appeared in my calm face even though my mind was like the sea in a tropical storm. I was scared. The wound she caused me had not healed yet and now she reappeard. I was afraid that old pains would swell and moreover, she would cause me new pains. It was not only the fear but also the anger came to me. She said as if there had been nothing between us, as if we were just two old friends haven’t met for a long time, as if she had never caused my miseries.

“Right! Long time no see. Long time since the day you broke up with me through a short text message”, I thought to myself.

I contemplated her. A year had passed but she did not change. Still were blue eyes behind the black-framed eyeglasses, still were that dressing style, only her short hair last year now became longer. “How are you?”, she asked me.

“I’m fine. How about you?”, I said.

We exchanged hollow words that made me sick. This conversation made me feel uncomfortable. It was sometimes interrupted by silence when one of us intended to say something but did not as it would recall the past. After a quiet moment like that, she told me: “I’m going to Finland”.

I had known that. Sometimes, I visited her blog and knew that she was going to that icy and snowy land.

“When will you go?” I asked her.

“I’m leaving tomorrow.” she said.

After that was a long quiet time. I put on my earphones. She took an earphone from me, put on her right ear, leaned on my shoulder and closed her eyes. It was like the old days. I forgot my hatred for her as if she had never hurt me. The feeling was like the first time we fell in love, a happiness like crystal, glittering but fragile. All of a sudden, I startled when hearing the song “She is leaving tomorrow” of Le Hieu:

“Why don’t you hug me like the first time you came?

Why don’t you kiss me like the day we attached to each other?

Why aren’t you happy like the time we were still in love?

Why are your eyes today so blue? …

Tomorrow I won’t have you anymore, I will have nothing

Loneliness will follow me to the faraway sky

It reminds me of good old days

Reminds me that there is still a heart always… loving you”

The ipod seemed to understand my thoughts as it chose that song. I stared outwards the window glass. Space was moving backwards. Time was moving backwards. The song was like the key that opened the door of time and took me to the first time we were together. The hug seemed to be fondling my skin. The kiss seemed to be caressing my lips. Back to present, she was leaning her head on my shoulder. I looked at her passionately. She was like the mystery that God gave me. Who is she, the girl gave me both extreme happiness and extreme misery? I used to wish I would never see her again but at that moment I was disappointed that she would go far away the next day.

“Wake up! We are near your destination”, I poked her arm.

She awoke, not knowing my meditation while she was sleeping. She smiled and said farewell to me as I would descend at the next stop. It might be the last time I saw her. I waved goodbye. She descended from the bus. Suddenly, I jumped out of the seat and ran downstair. The bus was leaving. There was only me and her.

“Oh, I supposed that you will descend at the next stop”, she asked surprisedly. I did not answer but stared at her eyes. I sent all my love through that look. Then, I hugged her gently. I hugged her for a while. I did not know how long it lasted. Time seemed to stop. I whispered to her: “There is a person in me… still loving you…” She said nothing, just drew a yellow piece of paper from her handbag, wrote something, fold the piece of paper and gave me. “Don’t open it until I fly”, she said. Then she went. I walked in the reverse direction… Next day, I caught the bus to Noi Bai airport with a flower bouquet on my hands. I looked at the electronic signboard. There it was, the flight from Hanoi to Helsinki would depart at 19.30. I realized my ex-lover with her family and friends. I suddenly changed my mind. I did not meet her, just watched her from far away until her figure fainted. I walked alone in the dim light outside the airport. All of a sudden, there was a whiz of a airplane. It must have been her airplane. He proudly lifted himself onto the space. “She is leaving”, I whispered. Stepping on the empty bus, I sat on my seat with the flower bouquet next to me. Then I drew the yellow piece of paper from my jeans pocket, opened and read tidy letters: “Please forget me”. I remembered the words I told her a year before: “To forget someone… The best way is to love someone else…”. Ironically, I could not.