"It's like, I love you... but I'm not in love with you, anymore." A tear trickled down my face.
I glanced up to see Jesse sitting beside me in a Sydney cafe. It was 2019.
He looked away for a moment, and then back at me with those ocean eyes. "Don't worry, Nikki. I know exactly what you mean."
It had been two years since I last saw him. Two years since he'd boarded that plane and exited my life so suddenly, fulfilling his own call to adventure while my own world crumbled around me.
And now that he was back in Sydney for a week, all that unfinished business rose to the surface. I could still talk to him for hours. It still felt as natural as ever — like nothing had changed.
And yet, everything had changed. I wasn't the same person I was when I was twenty-five. I was different. He was different. He had a new girlfriend in France. I'm sure she is lovely. I want him to be with someone lovely. I want the world for him.
But I want the world for myself too. And at that junction in my life when he took off into the wind... well, I wasn't going to move to France for him. I had my own dreams and goals and aspirations to fulfill. I loved him, but I loved me more.
And the consequence of that was this, right here. We were both doing what we dreamed of doing when we were together. We just happened to be doing those things apart.
Such is life, isn't it? It's not black and white. Right and wrong are relative. I think I made the right choice, to run in the direction of my dreams. Everyone who knew us as a couple were scratching their heads, wondering why I didn't follow him. Everybody loved Jesse. I loved Jesse. But I had to make a choice.
And sometimes I still wonder, what if? How would my life be different if I chose differently? Would we still be together?
Maybe.
But maybe not.
