While she was packing up her things and walking away from him, she had no idea that just a few miles away, another girl sat in front of a camera, obliviously straightening her hair, speaking to a screen, wrapped in her own world. The weight of leaving someone behind, the silence that now filled the emptying home—these two moments existed in separate universes, untouched by one another. Yet soon, they would intersect in a way no one expected.
That’s the strange yet beautiful thing about life. One story had to end so another could begin, all in perfect timing. Life is all about timing. Two people can meet and fall in love, but for that love to flourish, they need both timing and luck on their side. And that’s what we had.
I was the girl at home, talking to my camera. A little blue, but relishing my freedom. Love was something I had once craved, but now it sat on the back burner, an afterthought. He, on the other hand, was a stranger to me—a fleeting memory of one of the oddest, most uncomfortable encounters of my life when I was 22. Back then, if you’d told me he’d reenter my life, I would’ve laughed. Nine years had passed since that strange encounter, and yet here we were, our paths about to cross again in the most serendipitous way.
Honestly, if I could’ve chosen, I wouldn’t have picked to be in the same room as him, let alone share any part of my life. I didn’t know him, and frankly, I didn’t care to. Our history was messy and complicated. It wasn’t the kind of past that led to second chances.
But life, in its peculiar way, brought us back together, this time with the possibility of something new. A clean slate, if we wanted it. Whether we would become friends or simply two people who no longer held onto bitterness was something we had to decide for ourselves. He, surprisingly, chose to be the bigger person. He reached out first. Not in the kindest way—no, his initial approach was a full-on public takedown. But just weeks later, he offered something unexpected: a simple apology. There was curiosity in his words, a softness I hadn’t known before.
Of course, he still had his pride, and he made sure I knew he wanted me to own up to my part in our shared history. He wasn’t wrong. I hadn’t been perfect either, and I could see that now. So I apologized—for the unfairness.
And that was how it started. What began as a hesitant, almost misguided attempt at friendship soon became something much deeper. We started talking—really talking. What began as casual conversations evolved into long, late-night phone calls. Hours would pass, and we would lose ourselves in each other’s voices, sharing pieces of ourselves that had long been hidden. The world outside, which had once seemed so gray, began to fill with color again.
She Was Sea 