#Scintilla13: Getting There

I know, I've been sporadic with this project. But here's some more Scintilla fiction.

A: Talk about where you were going the day you got lost. Were you alone? Did you ever get to where you meant to go?

One day I looked around and he wasn't there. I woke up to realize the trappings of the life I'd built were unfamiliar and unsatisfying. When did collecting casual acquaintances like trophies become my measure of success? Around the same time he stopped calling, I think, though I couldn't fool myself about which event had led to the other.

One day I looked around and wished he were there. There, at the dinner parties, the clubs, the black tie galas. There, in bed, next to me every morning. There, at the end of the last known telephone number, now disconnected, or on the other side of the last known email, which goes unanswered for weeks. Maybe I'm grasping at straws, trying to reclaim the wholeness of my youth by seeking out the boy who was at my side through most of it. Maybe he wouldn't like the woman I've become. Probably.

One day I looked around and there he was. At my door, my email in hand. And the moment I saw him, I knew, and he knew, he was there for good. In my life and in my bed and in my future. And in finding him I found the comfort and certainty that nothing else in my life had been able to fill. I didn't realize I was looking for the place where I fit until he showed up, and then suddenly I was there.