14. Just When You’ve Moved On… #3
I took a slow breath, letting the noise settle around me instead of inside me. For the first time in a while, I didn’t feel like I was missing something.
“Ten! Nine! Eight—”
A couple in front of me leaned into each other, foreheads touching.
“Seven! Six—”
Someone to my right grabbed their partner’s face, laughing.
“Five! Four—”
Another pair already kissing—too early, too eager.
I smiled faintly. Not because I had someone, but because I knew that I’d be okay.
“Three! Two!”
I swallowed.
“One!”
The sky exploded.
Fireworks burst overhead—gold, red, white—alighting the night into something magical.
The crowd cheered.
“Happy New Year!”
And everywhere I looked, lips met, hands pulled bodies closer, eyes closed like the moment mattered.
And for a second, everything slowed. The sound dulled. It felt as though someone had turned the volume down on the entire world.
There’s something about being a yearner in moments like this—like you showed up with a heart too open and nowhere to put it.
But I… I just stood there.
Steady.
Grounded.
Enough.
Because maybe this year didn’t need to start with someone else.
Maybe being on my own was already kind of a beginning.
And by then, I knew that I was going to be okay…
…But then, all of the sudden, something shifted.
Not in the crowd.
Not the year that had just turned itself new.
In me.
My eyes moved instinctively, catching on something they were familiar with.
The crowd parted dramatically, moving all at once—slow enough, like a curtain being pulled back by invisible strings…
And revealed was someone’s back.
Familiar.
Too familiar.
My breath caught.
No.
It couldn’t be…
My heart started racing before my mind could catch up.
I straightened without realizing.
Waiting.
Longing.
Needing him to turn.
And then, just like a solemn prayer answered too slowly, he did.
Like time had decided to take its time with me.
His face came into view, piece by heart-aching piece—
—until there was no denying it.
Victor.
He didn’t see me at first.
His eyes moved through the crowd, unfocused, like he wasn’t looking for anything in particular.
And then—
They landed on me.
He stilled.
Surprise flickered across his face.
Subtle, but there.
And just like that, everything else disappeared. The screaming. The fireworks. The music.
Gone.
It was just him.
And me… and my pulse that I couldn’t even feel anymore.
Or maybe it was too loud to register.
I didn’t know.
For a second, I thought that this wasn’t real. That this was just what loneliness does—showing phantoms that didn’t belong to me anymore.
But I still moved forward.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Like if I rushed it, the moment would shatter.
Like if I get too close too quickly, the ghost would disappear.
But he didn’t.
Because he moved too.
Toward me.
We met halfway, stopping when we were just heartbeats away.
Our eyes locked, like neither of us trusted the moment enough to look away.
My eyes burned. Tears welled before I could stop them.
But I didn’t wipe them away. I was too busy making sure he was real.
Victor.
I let my eyes take him in slowly—carefully.
His face first.
Still the same.
That square-shaped face I had memorized without meaning to. Those foxy eyes—sharp, a little distant, but warm whenever he smiled. His hair still well kept. His beard, trimmed just enough to make him look like he had control over things.
He looked the same.
And that was the problem, because I wasn’t.
My gaze dropped briefly to his polo shirt—of all things.
Clean. Simple. Completely out of place in a rooftop party filled with half-dressed men and loud intentions.
It felt so… him.
He never needed to match the room to stand out in it.
“Hi,” he said, finally.
The first words after a million heartbreaks.
Soft. Careful.
I didn’t answer.
I couldn’t.
Because if I spoke, I was afraid I would crumble.
So instead, I lifted my hand.
Slowly. Gently.
And reached for his face.
My fingers brushed against his cheek.
Warm.
Real.
Victor closed his eyes, feeling it too.
Firework lights danced across his face, each flicker tracing the curve of his cheek, the edge of his jaw, the stillness in him I had memorized without permission.
A single tear slipped down my face, and I didn’t stop it. I didn’t stop anything. I just let things flow—my sadness, my gladness, my longing, my love for him.
He opened his eyes again, his hand reaching for mine where it rested against his face.
Holding it there.
Holding me there.
He looked at me like he was trying to understand something he had already lost once.
And then—
He pulled me in.
Just like that.
No hesitation.
No warning.
I stumbled forward into him, arms wrapping around his body like they remembered the shape before I did.
And when he held me—really held me—it felt like something inside me finally gave in.
For the first time in many breathless months, I was finally able to exhale.
I closed my eyes.
Let my face sink into his shoulder.
Into him.
The warmth.
The quiet.
The moment I didn’t realize I had been begging the heavens for.
And just like that…
It felt like coming home.