7 minutes.

7 minutes.

I saw him at the corner of the cafeteria with his friends, our friends. Should I go up to say hi? No, I think I'll just walk away.

He walks over and taps me on the shoulder. He asks me how I've been doing. I said I'm alright - the words "I miss you" linger on my lips. I bite my lower lip and...

6 minutes.

He said he's been doing well, making new friends and finding time to pursue his hobby. I smile, delighted to hear that life has been treating him well. And then, my heart frowns, knowing that he is moving on just fine...

5 minutes.

He tells me about his work, his dog, the new book he's been reading... he goes on and on. He has always been quite the talker - was, and still is.

4 minutes.

The familiarity scares me. The way he talks, as though he has known me for ages - he has.  The way he looks at me, as though he knows all my fears and insecurities - he does. The way he smiles at me, as though I light up his entire world - I don't, at least not anymore.

3 minutes.

He doesn't stop talking. I observe his soft, ruffled hair moving towards the direction of the wind. I take a glimpse of his defined shoulders where my head used to lie. I watch his animated gestures, with the hands I used to hold.

2 minutes.

He finally stops talking. Silence, as we look at each other with an intense longing. (Or perhaps it was just one-sided). Five, four, three, two...

1 minute.

His friends call out for him. We say our goodbyes. I don't know when the next 7 minutes will be but till then, we are strangers again.