The envelope in my hands was a gift. This trip down memory lane had solved nothing. The dilemma still remained. I felt foolish. What was the matter with me? I was always so mature and composed and I always knew what to do and how to handle things, even as a teenager I had always acted like an adult. I was unfamiliar with this callow behaviour. And yet I could not shake the feeling that this was in some way my fault. Had I broken everything?

I should not have said anything. Would everything be different? Or would I have ended up here anyway?

I flipped the envelope over to the smooth side. It was a cream coloured envelope, 'Ariel' was written in black in beautiful calligraphy. I ran my hand over it feeling the paper where it slightly sank because of the pressure of my pen. I closed my eyes and ran my fingertips over each letter. A- R- I- E- L.

NO.

I could not possibly lose myself like this. I had to understand that I could not afford to get stuck in a fantasy in my head. I had to face the fact that I was living a life; most of which had already passed me by and someday I would have to let go. Better now than later.

I objectively knew all this to be true and that I could not possibly derail my entire life just because of someone who was no longer in it and yet everything was easier said than done. In my mind, she was a part of my life and would always continue to be a part of my heart. I was hopelessly smitten because I thought I still had a chance and that by some miracle or divine intervention we would end up together. I felt like a silly teenager who is yet to experience the real world and operates from the naivety of their limited experience. A teenager who bases most of their notions of love, on ridiculous outcomes of romantic comedies and is entirely devastated when their expectations are not met.

And yet this too reminded me of Ariel. She had this magical ability to somehow make me feel younger way beyond my years. I had entirely missed my teens and my twenties, partly because I was too busy chasing my dreams and partly because the outcomes of certain situations in my life had been devastating enough to scare me forever. Ariel though, she was different somehow. She made me feel free and it was only when I was with her that I believed, anything was possible.

Although, that hardly mattered anymore. I caught one last fleeting look at her name on the envelope as I set it down on the coffee table with the wine and pasta that I had to take with me to Eric's. I gave a sigh as I sank down on my couch and closed my eyes. I knew why I was this apprehensive. She would be there and I would be awkward and make a fool of myself. My fault. All my fault. I wanted to rip that envelope to shreds but I could not bring myself to do it. My inability to let her go enraged me more than my urge to rip the envelope. I screamed and it was as if a floodgate of emotions had been opened. It was all there, the anger, the frustration, the sadness but most importantly the love because despite my hardest efforts, the love was still there. I told myself infinite lies but in truth, I still loved her. Beyond everything else, I held on to the idea of us because we would have been perfect. I held on because my heart had learned to love her and refused to unlearn it. I held on because I had hope and that was what I was living on for a long, long time. The tears flowed today because there was no reason to hold them back anymore. I finally accepted my reality because If I was to see her today, I had no other choice.

A few minutes later, Chryssy came in and settled on my lap. That cat was my saving grace; always had been. I always believed myself to be really clever and funny for naming her, a white cat, Chrysanthemum because the flower is considered a symbol of death while the colour white stood for purity and hope and beginnings. I thought it was hilarious, Chryssy agreed. I stroked her head. Her body was warm and comforting. She was almost like a reincarnation of my mother, constantly making sure I was alright whenever I was distressed. Otherwise she did not care what I did as long as I was okay and stayed out of her way. I wish we could stay like this forever; sat here on this couch away from the world, in our own little bubble but that was impossible. We were bound by societal obligations and social expectations.

I was ruining this for myself. It was just brunch and even though I would be surrounded by a number of people, I did this every Sunday for Eric and only Eric because whenever Ryan is deployed, it is a particularly hard time for him. The stress accompanied by the loneliness can at times become too much to deal with alone and I was not one to desert my friends in their time of need. I smiled and put my determined face on. "For Eric." I told Chryssy who was enjoying her morning nap on her favourite bed. She hopped right off my lap and walked to my room with her tail held high and purpose in her step. "Slow down mom I'm coming!"

I remember her black shirt which had different kinds of flowers on it. It was my favourite. Black always made her look beautiful but that specific shirt made her look gorgeous. It was just like her, cheerful and bright. I told her. She smiled and thanked me but told me that she was disappointed with this shirt. "Why?" "It has so many flowers on it, but no sunflowers!" She explained that those were her favourite kind of flowers and instantaneously proceeded to ask which kind I liked the most. I never thought about flowers enough to have a specific favourite kind. I could have easily said orchids or roses because everyone seemed to like those and they seemed like the kind I would like but I did not feel it was necessary to lie about something this trivial. I told her the truth, I did not have a favourite type.

Was she disappointed? No. Not at all.

"But what if you had to choose?" I thought for a second. "Lotus."

"Why?"

"Those are the only ones I can paint." The both of us burst out laughing.

I liked making her laugh, it made me laugh. I never intended it but it happened of its own accord. I was terrible at telling any sort of jokes. This was a brand new experience for me. I liked to know that I was the reason behind her laugh and her smile. Her smile. Her beautiful smile. Her smile was so captivating I always believed that it could light up the darkest corner of anybody's heart. It always worked for me but maybe I was biased because I was absolutely smitten. It is so obvious looking back now but it escapes my understanding how I never saw it when it really mattered.

"What are you doing tomorrow?" her question caught me off guard.

I found myself tongue tied and unable to answer what seemed like a simple and harmless question. But was it really?

"Nothing specific. Just the usual Sunday stuff."

"Perfect."

Her vague response to my answer puzzled me even further. It just raised a whole host of new questions and answered none of them.

She glanced at her watch. "It's getting late. Let's grab dinner together."

Dinner together had become our new normal. Whenever I knew we would get late because of the book, I would inform her accordingly. The first time it happened, she cooked for the both of us. It was incredibly sweet of her. I told her this, which she just shrugged off as if it took no effort at all. She was always up to something. Never a dull moment.

Although today, we weren't late. In fact, we were done a little earlier than usual. She read my mind."I know, we've never really dined out before but I really want to try this place out. I hear they have good ratings..." She began rambling about food and why we should really go to this place. I smiled. It was adorable the way she explained herself even though she did not really need to. I could not help but wonder whether she did this because she found the silence between us unbearable.

I personally liked silence. It told me a lot about people and their most intimate details, things they would never tell people and at times, things they did not even know about themselves. Ariel was always hesitant during long stretches of silences often afraid she was being a bother. I found it endearing how easily flustered she was over something so trivial. It was the only time I had ever seen her so vulnerable.

We ended up in a bar. Apparently, her idea of dinner primarily consisted of alcohol. Tequila to be specific and lots of it. Her curiosity in my plans for the next day now made sense to me. I had previously made it clear to her that as a rule, I did not drink when I had work or meetings the next day, which roughly translated to a rare glass of wine on a Saturday night after a long week. Tequila shots were definitely out of my range of capacity. She said she wanted to have some fun. I didn't protest and just went along with it. I didn't think it was a bad idea until the moment we actually arrived there.The bar was dimly lit and buzzing with people, there was rock music playing in the background and alcohol was everywhere. I distinctly remember thinking that this was a recipe for disaster.

I tried not to think about what this meant because it wasn't supposed to mean anything. We were just two friends who were out to have fun on a Saturday night. Everyone did that! It didn't mean anything to them, why would it mean anything for us?

At some point during the night, we began lightly flirting with each other and as we got progressively drunker it increased but it never turned into anything. Throughout the night, it stayed what it was; harmless flirting. I told myself that night that if something were supposed to happen, now was the time it would. If it didn't happen now, it never would.

Saturday evenings, which she dubbed Tequila Nights turned into a ritual. They reminded me of the days from my youth that I had not cared to live. I had spent most of my life buried in books because it was just easier that way. I was never brave enough to let go of myself even for a little while in fear of what might happen. With her I was braver because subconsciously, I always hoped that something would happen. But nothing ever did.

Tequila brought us closer. I even bought a bottle of it just in case. I wasn't really a tequila person, honestly I wasn't a hard drink person at all but tequila began growing on me. I casually mentioned this to her and even expressed surprise at the bottle that was now in my home. "I'm probably never going to even open it."

"That's ridiculous! I simply cannot let you waste good tequila like that!"

That Tequila Night, we had a girls night in. Food, Netflix and Cocktails. I didn't know she could make cocktails, that too complex ones. Was there anything she couldn't do? I distinctly recalled her mentioning that making any sort of drink was too stressful and that she'd never consider doing something like that and yet here she was making different cocktails using the tequila I had bought. Did she learn to make these specifically for Tequila Night, specifically for me?

It turned out to be just like any other Tequila Night, barring the fact that we were in my house. Halfway through the movie, she rested her head on my shoulder and gave a tiny yawn.

"Sleepy?" She nodded without lifting her head. It felt nice. Just the two of us far away from the rest of the world, celebrating our little ritual that was just ours and nobody else's. It was as if by means of the ritual, she was mine and I was hers.

She sat on my bed waiting for me to get a blanket for her. There was complete silence, the kind that says everything without actually saying anything. She was smiling but had not jumped at the opportunity to fill the void of silence with words like she usually did.

"Speechless?" I asked, handing her the blanket. I was just trying to tease her. Oddly enough, the silence had made me uncomfortable. It was quite unlike me to be uncomfortable in silence. Although it is possible that I wasn't uncomfortable, I was simply afraid of what the silence might have given away. She slowly shook her head. I gave her an apologetic smile. It was clearly the wrong time to initiate any kind of banter. She tenderly held my gaze as an act of forgiveness, not faltering for even a second.

"I don't really need words when I'm with you. I usually just tend to say things out of habit."

My mouth forgot how to form words and my brain refused to comprehend information. I was unable to fall asleep that night. The couch, which I regularly fell asleep on either listening to podcasts or watching T.V. had suddenly become uncomfortable. I had to speak to her about this in the morning.

That morning though, She didn't seem to remember what she had said last night. I'm sure this means, last night didn't mean anything... at least for her.