She waltzes back into his life a year later thinking he’s finally ready to choose her. Ignited by drunken calls confessing “I miss yous”. Fuelled by the reveal of unsent letters holding known secrets like “I love you”, and a whisk-away weekend spent in bedsheets and kisses under street lights. Playing pretend - fabricating a life of what could be. The game isn’t a new one, but the stakes are higher this time around.

She cries “It’s not fair! You’ve never given me a chance.” feeling it all slip away. Losing what was never hers to lose. “I’m not a kid anymore” She begs. “I want the same things you want, I’m done gallivanting around the world. I want you. I love you. I don’t want to do it without you.” she hopelessly sobs.

He holds her face and wipes away her tears. “Sometimes people are in love but aren’t together.”

Heart shattered, grasping at nothing “I don’t want that to be us”. She whispers, “you feel like home.”

He tells her that time will heal the wound, that she’ll learn to love him but not want him. It’s been 4 years of trying, years spent holding onto the hope of it all, that one day they’ll find their way back into each other's arms. Not for a weekend, not as invisible lovers, but as partners. But what if the turtle and snail’s journey is just too great a distance? Met by others along the way to convince them the journey isn’t worth it. 

-

She lays on her floor, empty, day one post-breakup. Heartbroken knowing this time around it holds permanence. Repeating the lesson her parents seared to her heart, love isn’t enough. Everything aches and it’s only 1 in the afternoon but she can’t bear being awake. She rolls herself a joint, to make the day somewhat bearable. 

High, she indulges in her what-if daydreams. She drifts into a morning spent at the farmers market where he’s buying strawberries knowing they're her favourite. She points at the peaches and says ‘those too!’. They’ll set up a blanket and have the perfect Sunday picnic. Watching clouds with his head in her lap. Tears stain her pillows when it hits her that it’ll never happen. She rolls herself another joint, and drifts off into a drug-induced haze, softly sobbing to the idea of sweet lazy afternoons with him slipping away from her.

-

A persistent nudge at her hands wakes her up. She grunts and grabs her dog to cuddle, rolling over to look at the time, 6PM. She sighs deeply and closes her eyes, wishing this day to be over. The darkness is haunted by his girlfriend. 

An effortlessly cool girl, Ruth - even her name was cool. She hates how much she knows she’d like her through her life in pictures. She pictures them hold each other, so naturally in love. Past the honeymoon phase, settled in a kind of homely love she’s always imagined with him. What she’d do just to be given a chance to reach that kind of connection with him. The ache in her chest comes back and she cries into her pillow. She plays their reunion in her head. He’d come out of the airport in Bali, and the moment their eyes meet it takes his breath away. He’s finally reunited with his person. His home. They’d kiss and head back to the hotel and they’ll spend the night making love - making up for the time spent apart. He’d be doing the exact same ritual he’s always done with her, but with his girlfriend - forgetting all about the sad girl hopelessly in love with him; the invisible one, the one that only exists in the shadows of his life. 

She shakes off the thought and pulls herself out of bed to walk her dog. Everything sucks. 

The sun, the children running around, the couples getting ice cream, the smell of the perfectly manicured gardens. Everything. Nothing makes sense, how is it she feels so broken by something that wasn’t ever hers? She recalls back to their call the night before, when she admitted “I would have loved you forever. I know it’s stupid, like I’m too young to know that. But I could’ve. I want to”. She wipes her tears off her cheeks, adjusting her sunglasses. She pulls out a joint rolled earlier and lights it up. 

Her mind wanders to their weekend together. Reunited after 2 years but still feeling so familiar, feels like home. This time around she knows it could be the last time, so she savours him, memorizing his taste on her lips. The way he feels when he wraps his arms around her. The moments she introduces him to her friends, beaming at their approval despite knowing they don’t know the full story. “I’m routing for you two” they’d say afterwards, as if distance is the only thing keeping them apart. Dinner dates out, and strolling through the streets of Williamsburg. Wandering into a quiet bar, existing in the same world for the first time. Safe enough to reveal their secret love affair to strangers they’ll never see again. Bittersweet kisses in the dim street lights waiting for their car, clouded by a truth, he’s not hers. 

She jumps in bed high and sad, the tears seems endless. Her heart aches at a loss that no one knows. 4 years, with nothing to show for it.