The Day I Met Her Again

It was a fine day. I was walking out of the store quite happy with myself. Why shouldn't I be happy, there was nothing in my life to be sad about- no missed deadlines, mean clients, miserable breakups or annoying boyfriends. And the best part I had just become the proud processor of one of the best trends of this season. It was then I noticed her.

Yes, it was her! She stood by the shop window admiring the dress. Memories rushed back as I looked at her- my school life. Oh, the memories that seemed so distant flashed in front of my eyes as if it were yesterday.

She had always been the one. The one who is perfect in every way. Perfect figure, perfect scores, perfect hairstyle. It was strange. I thought I was over those childish feelings. Yet here I stood staring at her thinking the same thing. How could she be so damn perfect?

Soon our eyes met and in a jiffy all my self-consciousness returned to me. Just a while ago I was a school girl and now I am a lady again, too conscious of my manners.

She walked up to me with that sweet smile which I always found to be so annoyingly beautiful and said “Hi”. The man standing beside her followed too.

“Oh hey!” I said returning a fake bright smile. It is not that I faked a smile because of the situation. I fake it all the time. For people of my profile, it is always important to smile no matter whatever shit is going on in their lives.

“So, what’s up?”, I asked trying to convince my brain that these feelings are just stupid, baseless.

“Oh, nothing much. Just admiring a dress that is far beyond my limit”. She laughed. I beamed too. I wanted to make the bag in my hand disappear. All I could do was pull it further behind me.

“I will buy you that when I get my bonus.” said the man standing beside her. She giggled.

“Sure you will” and they kissed.

There was a brief awkward pause before I spoke again. “Oh I would have loved to catch up but I really need to go.”

“see ya”, she said and we departed.

I looked at her again as I sat in my car. She walked hand in hand with her boyfriend. A perfect happy couple. I couldn’t help but imagine how they will go home and cook dinner together. Probably they will eat in comfortable silence, or maybe they will cuddle. On the other hand I will return home to a pile of papers, eat a stale meal someone unlovingly cooked for me and stare at the computer screen. Honestly, that has been my personal life for quite some time now.

After all these years I felt something I haven’t felt in a long time. I had spent my entire school life figuring out how to be better than her. I always tried to beat her and I thought I had succeeded. Clearly, I was more successful than her. I owned the dress she could only dream of buying one day. And yet the simplicity of her clothes seemed way more admirable than that glorious expensive piece of fabric.

I am jealous of her. I have been ever since I was just a little girl. I was always in an undeclared war with her. After all these years I thought I had overcome this feeling, convinced myself that I am in a better position than her. But here I am again, unable to decide who has won. I have the dress and she has the life.