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A short bit of romantic-ness.
He hadn’t seen her in a very long time. They hadn’t talked in two years, and hadn’t seen each other for longer than that. He had moved on (so he thought) and traveled down a hard road of the broken heart. Now, on medication with a better outlook, he goes out to meet her.
Oh, she was beautiful. Her hair had grown, and it flowed around her face, pin straight. Her voice was the same, her laugh. He saw her light up as well. He hoped he looked okay. She loved his big hair, she said. And his duct-taped, ruined Chuck Taylors. He apologizes for being a jerk to her. She forgives him immediately, laughing it off. She makes a few jabs at him, and he jabs back, all in fun. They laugh. They talk for hours. She’s moved on too. She has a boyfriend, a bit of a downer. But she talks to him with no reservations.
It gets dark, they must part. He looks at her face, and wishes he could kiss her. But it’s not right; she has a boyfriend now.
And then, he doesn’t care. He has known for a long time she was the only good thing in his life. She made him happy, even when she wasn’t his.
So he kissed her.
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