Memory Lane

Have you ever taken a look back to the road you've taken so far and found out things you've been missing as you chose the other option back then? Have you ever wondered how would it feels if you took that turn in the intersection? Have you ever wondered why are you wondering about that? You've been wondering because you didn't hope to be there instead of where you are, but mostly because you still don't know where are you going after this. 

It was an ordinary autumn day, slightly cloudy but not too chilly. I sat on the bench at the porch, have been wanting to read a book since I arrived home several days ago, and enjoying the apple blossoms-spiced breeze at the same time. The kind of peace I have been wanting since I took a leave from my job, just so I could go home to my hometown. I was going to attend my friend's wedding.

Friend. A gorgeous word in my book. Plus, he is a Friend with the capital F.

We got close during a project back then in college. You know the deal: we met, talked, texted continuously, went out once or twice. Then he said he needed some space, and I went upset since he was the one who started everything so why did he make it sound like I was the one who start it all? My overly enormous pride went and made me swear to never talk to him again. He tried several times to patch things up, but I was being such a proud ice queen who refused to melt even a bit. I replied his messages sourly, talked to him only as needed, and just curtly nodded every time I meet him.

Time passed and the next thing I knew he was going out with one of the juniors. Not that I mind, really.

Then we graduated and he got a serious corporate job in our hometown while I went abroad to work in an international organization. I met new people and traveled around the globe when he was advancing through some promotions and settled down with her. I remembered the day I saw his fiancee uploaded the picture of the engagement ring in her finger on Twitter. I remembered the soft tingles in my belly when I clicked open the picture: a pretty princess cut diamond.

Now here I am, sitting at the porch, thinking how would I feel tomorrow at the ceremony. It was a bizarre feeling: it's not like I want to take the place of the bride, but what if I reacted differently back then? Not that I wanted to get married now, but what if I said yes when he asked me out again after the awkward "break"? How different would my life be? Would I still go travel the world for the last two years when he waited for me? Or would we still part anyway when I decided to go abroad and he was home bound? Then would he still hook up with this fiancee and get married like this? Would he meet someone else?

The what ifs, the thing that surfaced after you take a trip down the memory lane, rethink about your choices in every intersection of your life. The what ifs, the thing that could make you doubt yourself as you realized you still have no idea where were you going after leaving the other option.