Angel

Maybe you were my angel. And now, you're back to becoming a stranger. Not that I complain. But I miss you.

I still do, and as much as I hope you're reading this right now, I know that's just not how the cycle goes. 

But at least you're happy, and I, try to be happy. I really do. For a girl who is not in a relationship, my life is quite fascinating. And one day, I hope, when I have kids, and you have kids, we can talk about it over tea, or maybe coffee. It doesn't matter. We'll laugh about the silly times with our spouses by our side, and maybe my daughter would like to play with your son. So, we'll be having our tea (or maybe coffee) at this fancy playroom in my house that I'll decorate with pink ribbons and pink, polka-dotted wallpapers, and we'll watch over my daughter and your son play together. Maybe I'll bake a chocolate cake (I know how much you love chocolate), and maybe by that time, I can bake anything you'd like to have because I'll be so good in baking, that my husband will brag about how good I am while his arm surrounds my shoulders, and the smile just can't seem to fade from his face. And you'll be so proud of your little family that you keep talking about them, all the time till I can see the natural blush on her cheeks. 

And those occurrences remain as just maybes. Maybe for now. Maybe.

I guess, what I wish to say to you is, I hope our paths cross again, sometime.