《A second chance》 03/06/2024 03/06/2024 I lay sprawled on my back, staring at the ceiling, mourning yet another dream of a happy life that will soon fade from my memory, leaving only a sour taste of what could have been. Waking up in the morning has become a real uphill battle, to the point I have to pry my consciousness from the deepest recesses of my mind and force it to go through another day. My eyes adjust to the influx of light as dawn breaks through the cracks of the blinds. My gaze settles on the picture of what once seemed like a perfect couple, embracing each other, drowning in the ocean of love. Underneath it, the text reads, ¡°Jake and Christina, 14/08/2019.¡± I almost long for the nights when sleep rings the doorbell and then runs for it, with the darkness pressing on me heavier as the little old alarm clock ticks the night away. A clich¨¦ way to start a story, isn¡¯t it? But this is my story, and clich¨¦s are called such because these are experiences every person goes through in one way or another. My life took an obstacle course, hitting every single one on the way. Growing up, I was a troubled boy with a tough upbringing, navigating life through the harsh realities of poverty. Sports became my escape, a realm where I excelled and found a sense of identity and popularity. It defined who I was, but then an injury abruptly ended that part of my life. As I faced being forgotten and sidelined, I struggled but eventually managed to get back on my feet. I found work and strived to live the best life I could, embracing a new identity and purpose beyond the field. Yet, the feeling of loneliness and not belonging remained. I often found myself lost in thought, daydreaming about different worlds, searching for one where I truly belonged. As I turn to look at my wife sleeping before I go to work, I can¡¯t help but think, how did I come to be in this situation? I am thirty, on the brink of a divorce, with a woman I once thought of as salvation now being the cause of all my issues. Another lie, something I¡¯ve grown accustomed to recently, especially when someone asks how I am feeling. There was yet another person, someone who became both a bane and a blessing. For almost three years, things with my wife have been bad. She shut me out of her life, closing the door in my face, never communicating the issues. It was as if a switch had flipped in her head, and I was no longer good enough. In the first of those three years, I worked on bettering myself, hoping she would notice that I cared and return to her old self. In the second year, I wanted to die when I realized all my efforts were futile and that divorce was the only option. In the third year, I met someone. She was going through the same thing, understanding the painful lack of attention and companionship. Though our circumstances were not exactly alike, we bonded over our shared loneliness, filling the holes left in our hearts by our partners. Soon, people noticed our smiles when we were together or chatting over work apps. Lunch breaks and coffee after work became our solace. But neither of us wanted to cross the line out of respect for our partners. Yet at one point, she was ready to take a step further, no doubt tired of wrestling with the bottled-up feelings. But it was my cowardice and misplaced sense of duty to my wife that put a stop to it. Deep down, I knew it would have been the right thing to end things with my wife then and there. I had already sinned and given my heart to another person, but all my insecurities and doubts kept me chained to a life I built for myself. She accepted it, but I could sense the pain rearing its head in her words. Even though it tore me apart and everything in me screamed against it, I encouraged her to talk to her partner, thinking of all my sleepless nights and not wishing them upon anyone. And she did. What didn¡¯t work for me reignited the passion between them, and soon all the texts, calls, and coffees were a rarity. Even though we agreed to stop flirting, she promised our relationship would stay the same. But it didn¡¯t. It made me feel used. I was there to comfort her and help her work on her own issues, and I outlived my usefulness. I know that is not true. If it weren¡¯t for her, I wouldn¡¯t be in this world anymore. It¡¯s simply natural; I became a hurdle to her happiness. Once her partner got suspicious over the long string of texts we exchanged, I knew even those rare messages would stop, even though I was content with being just a friend. You always realize what you are missing once you have it and lose it. Life gave me a way out, offered me a chance for true love. All this time I knew it; I was just afraid to act on it. I have completely and utterly destroyed myself. Too late I realized that I am not unhappy due to divorce. I got over that a long time ago. My unhappiness stemmed from my inaction, unwillingness to take a risk and close one chapter of my life. I caught myself thinking about her all the time, missing her each second she is not around. The way I feel about her is something I should have experienced with my wife, that feeling of wanting to spend a life with someone, of good mornings and good nights shared. But that never happened, not even in the beginning. Looking back, my understanding of love was shallow. I see now that I confused trying to fix being broken with genuine care. Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more. The truth is, I spent my teenage years chasing fleeting moments of popularity and relationships, and when it all crumbled down, I rushed into marriage, clinging onto it like it was my only purpose in life. Now I see that it was only to fill an endless void, a desperate attempt to find a meaning where there was none. Each morning, the work commute was a battle against an urge to swerve off the road, thinking that the ending it all would be a merciful way out of my problems. A coworker I used to drive with got transferred to a different department, and I am left alone to battle my inner demons. It¡¯s not like we talked that much about issues, we are not some good friends, but just someone there to take your mind off of it with usual small talk is enough. Whoever said men need to just get strong and deal with it was a fool. There are pains one should never fight alone, and life being life, you usually are. My mind wandered off to all of the overtime coffees, when the offices would suddenly go quiet as they left home to their families. Nature of our work would keep us tied up, alone we found solace in yelling to each other across the hall, acting out the manager¡¯s reaction to it. Sometimes we¡¯d race on chairs, both keeping in mind that playing around would just keep us at work longer. Perhaps we both wanted it, trying to find distraction from our personal lives. Fuck this song! I don¡¯t usually pay much attention to radio, but the somber song hit a little too close to the home, causing me to almost break the volume down button on the steering wheel. By the time I realized that I had arrived at the company¡¯s parking lot, people had already begun to stare as I must have looked like a schizophrenic, hitting the steering wheel and cussing out loud. I didn¡¯t care, there was too much going on to worry about what people think of me. As I entered the office my eyes were drawn to five tables, neat, clean and organized, belonging to people who built up their careers and lives, or were in the process of building it up. Mine? The sixth table, messy, papers strewn all over, sticky notes covering most of my monitor, caps mysteriously missing their pens, one truly has to wonder how I get any work done here. And I resented my work. Numbers, papers, analysis, presentations for higher ups, constant pressure. Like I said, my whole life is a clich¨¦, straight out of some drama TV show. And here she comes! Before the question even came, I let out a sigh. Andrea was smart, intuitive, and probably the only person I¡¯d consider a friend from my office. She was the first to notice when my marriage started falling apart and the first to notice my developing feelings for the other girl." ¡°You feeling better today?¡± I could feel the wheels of her chair getting close, even tho my back was turned towards her. The forceful dragging of the one wheel that kept getting stuck told me she really wants to know. ¡°I feel the same as yesterday, and have a lot of work to do, we¡¯ll talk later.¡± I couldn¡¯t see her, but I sensed the shrug and disappointment. ¡°We can talk a bit before diving into the boring e-mails.¡± she sighed. "I may not know all the details, but you know I am here for you?" She was right, but in all her intelligence she really couldn¡¯t read the room. Sometimes it felt like it was all about her and what she wants to do, but her heart was in the right place and I knew she only wanted to help me. For a moment I even considered opening up to her, but as fast as that thought popped into my mind, it disappeared even faster. I wanted to be left alone, but I couldn¡¯t bring myself to be harsh on her. ¡°Maybe after a fire drill, it starts in twenty minutes, or did you forget already?¡± ¡°No I didn¡¯t!¡± Somehow her face was in front of mine, and her genuine smile was there trying its best to cheer me up. ¡°You really gotta let me clean up your table one day,¡± she said while plucking the sticky notes off of my monitor and throwing them into the trash bin. ¡°We finished these assignments weeks ago!¡± I wanted to get irritated, but I knew she was just trying to put my mind at ease, to change the topic and bring back the usual cheery atmosphere we had going in the office. And she was totally right, I handed them these assignments and reported on their status yesterday. Perhaps more stern than I wanted to be, I scoffed at her. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about my table, I get by the best in my own mess, if I cleaned it up now it would take me a week to catch up.¡± It was obvious she cared and the regret of talking back in such a way quickly washed over me, yet I was way too absorbed in my self-pity to actually apologize. She pulled her legs from under her chair, resting her arms on the sides of it and spun around, scratching the floor on the way back to her desk. Same old shit in mails, calculate this, calculate that, we need to impress our buyers. Nothing interesting to move me a bit, and my mind wandered to her again. I stared at the chat app. Last message was two months ago. My fingers itched, fighting hard against a reflex. For a year my days at work started with a ¡®Good day starts with the good morning, so I wish you the best morning.¡¯ The grumbling in my stomach got more intense, I had this gut feeling for past two months, every day. Like attending funeral, and trying your best to stomach the tears. Fitting as I really want to scream and cry whenever I looked at her profile picture. Then a feel of disgust over my obsession, giving off creep vibes. If you love someone let them go, because if you truly love them you want them to be happy, even if that happiness is not with you. What a joke. I remembered lyrics that describe this feeling, something about her being a star on someone¡¯s sky, but wondering why it can¡¯t be mine. What I wouldn¡¯t do to have another chance. No, no, no. The fire alarm echoed throughout the building. These drills are annoying, but as the leader of a team of five, it''s my duty to ensure their safety and lead them out. But, of course, I was so lost that they all left without me. Man I really don¡¯t need to get punished now. Running down the stairs in haste, I needed to catch up with my team. Even these routine drills factor into evaluations for salary adjustments. Just a few more steps! Why is that woman screaming, and why am I looking up? Did I really just fall? Pain surges through me, making it hard to breathe. Will she ever stop screaming so I can find peace? I wonder if she''ll miss me. Is this truly my final thought? I am disgusting. 03/06/2013 03/06/2013 As the fog in front of my eyes cleared, head feeling heavy, like those early Saturday mornings after drowning my sorrows in the multiple glasses of fragrant scotch an evening before, a voice I haven¡¯t heard in a decade tickled my ears. ¡°Remember, you only have one more week to apply to university of your choosing, and get ready for entrance exams or you¡¯ll have to wait until next year!¡± What the actual¡­ Familiar faces, smells, overwhelming my senses. That¡¯s my homeroom teacher talking, these are my buddies from school. Everyone is so young. The heavy slap on my back snapped me out of it. ¡°Man, you look a little lost, you okay?¡± The young dark skinned boy in front of me was my best friend, my best man at my wedding. With crackling voice, loud, he stood there smiling, his pearly white teeth contrasting his skin. My hands quickly flew to him, hugging him firmly, fingertips exploring every nook and cranny of his face. I would recognize those sharp facial lines and that charcoal black hair even if I were suffering from late stage Alzheimer¡¯s,. ¡°Bro, did you turn gay over night or something?¡± Tears begun to form, threatening to burst out like Yellowstone geysers, but a quick swipe of the hand managed to hide just enough not to be noticed. My late best friend was right there in front of me. ¡°Alex¡­¡± My voice betrayed me as my knees begun to shake. Tongue wrestled with the lips, trying to form words, letting out just some alien sounds. Seemingly unfazed by my inordinary behavior he smiled. ¡°Come on, lets go home, we got a date with those two hotties later.¡± He glanced at two attractive girls standing at the door waving at us. ¡°We gotta get ready.¡± I followed without a word. Confusion gripped me like a baby grips its toys, memories of the walk home streaming into my consciousness. The stone on the street in front of us? He is about to kick it down the road. ¡°I miss how we used to play soccer together.¡± Stone flew good few feet before stopping. ¡°Are you sure doctors can¡¯t do anything else about your knee?¡± ¡°Hey I am talking to you Jake!¡± He was now getting visibly worried, his jet black eyes trying to pierce into me. I must have wandered off again. Something I was prone to doing in my youth, but this time I guess it was different if it warranted a reaction from usually laid back Alex. ¡°Yeah, they said the ligaments will never be the same again.¡± The same reply I gave to him all those years ago. ¡°What are you gonna do about uni then?¡± he sighed. ¡°Did you even try studying anything? Or did you just focus on sports?¡± Even though the experience is the same, it still stung like the first time, waking up the feelings I had buried out long time ago. I had all my hopes put on a sports scholarship, and it all disappeared in an instant, remaining a fleeting dream of a young boy. ¡°Yeah, I studied some math and statistics, guess I¡¯ll settle for an office job¡±. Truth is, long ago I gave this answer as a joke. The uni I ended up in was in relation to social studies and languages, just by sheer luck I happened to have a knack for data analysis and math and managed to land a job in that area. I never liked it. ¡°By the way, we passed your house¡± I turned around and there it was, my place. Grey, with a red stripe in the middle where two floors meet each other. The same place I still live in with my wife. I wonder if she¡¯ll be in this dream. If this is a dream at all. It feels so real, vivid, almost suffocating. ¡°Later!¡± Alex waved and left. I wanted to stop him, but how do I even explain to him that he is dead. Not like it matters, this can¡¯t be real anyway. I stepped into the house, the door groaning at its hinges, swollen from the relentless summer humidity. ¡°Don¡¯t forget to wash your feet before you sit at the table!¡± That was a phrase my mom loved repeating every day after I came home. After eight hours in the same shoes, the smell isn¡¯t pleasant, but I am so hungry, so I just stomach it. Why am I even hungry in a dream though? Still, I went to the bathroom to clean myself. The messy silk like hair that refused to get straightened, especially at one place at the top, sticking out like a horn. The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. Why did I wait so long to start cutting it shorter? I gazed into my own eyes, green, turning yellow under certain lighting. This was undoubtedly me in the mirror. The same nose, slightly leaning to the left, the pear shaped head, sunken eyes. I was just eleven years younger. I slowly picked up the razor from the shelf. ¡°This can¡¯t be real, there is no way.¡± I said out loud as I ran the razor over my finger. ¡°Fu¡­ It hurts¡± Blood slowly dripped from the tip of my finger into the sink, forming a little pool of blood I stared into. The pain didn¡¯t bother me, it felt like a distant memory that sometimes stings you, almost unnoticeable like a mosquito. I was more bothered by the fact I even experienced pain. ¡°Jake, other people need to use the bathroom too!¡± ¡°Yeah, sure dad, I¡¯ll be right out.¡± And I was. Stumbling to the common room like a drunkard, absorbed in my circumstances. ¡°Hey guys, do you mind if I go hit the bed for a bit?¡± Mom¡¯s lips curved into a sour smile, her eyes shooting knives at me and given the great smelling food on the table it¡¯s not hard to figure out why, a lot effort was put into it ¡°Okay, but you¡¯ll have to eat this for a dinner then!¡± ¡°Yeah, no problem.¡± My room was the same as back then. Full of trophies and medals, laid out on the oak shelf my dad purchased on some yard sale. It reeked of cigarette smoke, the layers of dried paint and coating slowly dripping down to floor only to be strewn all across the house once I inevitably step on it. Emotions overwhelmed me again. I threw all of this into the trash long time ago, and now it¡¯s here again to remind me of what could have been. I am just going to close my eyes real quick and everything will be back to normal. Or abnormal. I chuckled to myself at that depressing joke. The phone ringing woke me up. It was a familiar tune, but I couldn¡¯t remember it, at least not until spotting the phone itself. It was the old device my parents barely scrapped by to buy me, that was relatively modern so I don¡¯t feel completely out of the place among friends. It was Alex. ¡°Hey dude, are you coming?¡± ¡°Coming where?¡± I asked, having no idea what he was talking about. ¡°Date? With two girls from today?¡± I completely forgot. As moments from the date in the past popped into my head one by one, I almost said I don¡¯t want to go. It was as monotone as my work. But it was a chance to spend more time with him, ¡°I¡¯ll be right there man, overslept.¡± He hung up as I was getting dressed. It was so long I couldn¡¯t remember which of the five piles of clothes were clean and which were dirty, so one by one I grabbed shirts and smelled them. My parents fell asleep in each other¡¯s arms. My heart tightened a bit, remembering how this rarely if ever happened with my love. After thirty years of marriage the spark between them was still there, shining like a lighthouse in the dark. Panic was slowly settling into me. Here I was, thirty year old man going out on a date with barely eighteen year old girls. It¡¯s feels so wrong. I looked one more time in the mirror. Surely this has got to be a dream. I had to make sure just one more time. Pinching myself and feeling the pain. The reality of what was happening slowly started sinking in. I am actually eighteen again. Logic, reason, everything flew out of the window. The amount of time spent daydreaming about going back and fixing things, granted not this far into the past, was astronomical. What am I even supposed to do? Every thought of mine was fixated on what was the end goal. Especially at this point in time. There was nothing eventful happening in my life when I was eighteen. Am I just to live the life again like I already did? Stepping into the coffee shop, my ears were immediately overwhelmed by the lively chatter of a sea of people occupying every table. Snippets of conversations floated through the air¡ªmundane discussions about dating, planning parties, and upcoming dates. The familiar buzz created a sense of coziness. As my eyes scanned the stuffy room for Alex and the girls, a hand suddenly shot up between the bobbing heads, signaling the corner they had chosen. ¡°Sorry I am late, I overslept a bit.¡± ¡°Not a good first impression.¡± The blonde with blue eyes said, while her friend chuckled. Alex always picked the girls that were physically complete opposite of him. Turning to face the other girl, green, large eyes, brown hair. Quite beautiful, but she had no personality. Then again we both were mostly there for our friends, and I never tried to get to know her on some deeper level. As the date went on I found myself falling into the familiar patterns of boredom, the random talk of childish past events, none of which I found interesting reminded me why the date was so boring the first time around. ¡°This one time in elementary¡­¡± Those words grabbed my attention. Alex and I went to different elementary schools, so this couldn¡¯t be another anecdote from our time spent together. And then it hit me, something she told me after Alex died. She went to the same school as him, a year younger. As I patted my pants trying to locate my phone, I fished it out of my pocket and went to social networks. My fingertips felt sweatier than usual fumbling over keys trying to type in her name in the search bar, mistyping every other letter, until her profile finally popped out. Scrolling through it I felt a little egg of happiness forming as I confirmed it was indeed her. ¡°Do you know her?¡± I asked. I could feel the excitement bubbling up inside me, like a pot on the verge of boiling over with anticipation. ¡°Yeah, barely, she was younger right?¡± I nodded, if I am back in the past, then so is she. Or rather I can meet her past self. The smile that escaped me caused clear disgust to manifest on my dates face, after all I was there to keep her company and yet I am ignoring her to talk about another girl. But I didn¡¯t care. I found hope I haven¡¯t felt in so long. Is it really okay? I may be young again, but mentally I am so much older. I have all these experiences that she is yet to have. She¡¯s not even close to the same person I know. And was I really brought back for such a selfish reason? Losing myself in thought didn¡¯t sit well with my companions. Even Alex seemed somewhat annoyed. I felt that gut feeling of sadness showing up again. ¡°Guys I am really not feeling all that well,¡± I said as I was getting up ¡°I¡¯ve been out of it whole day, so I am gonna go hit the bed early.¡± It didn¡¯t take me long to reach home, as I walked by countless street lights, my eyes glued to my phone with a dumbest smile on my face. The fact that this is now my life, or rather that I am repeating my past was now given. The doubt that now that I accepted it, and maybe found a reason why, would cause me to wake up to ugly reality again was strong. After all I fell down the stairs, I probably hit my head. Maybe I am in a coma. Maybe I died and this is a test before I go to Hell or Heaven. So many uncertainties. But what if? What if this really is the reason. If she was really the one and destiny is correcting itself. Do I even deserve this chance? What if I am supposed to make it right with my wife? But I knew, I never loved my wife like I loved her. Thinking back, I don¡¯t think there was ever that spark between us, we just came from fucked up backgrounds trying to lead normal life, fell into routine far too quickly. We were simply not compatible. Why would I do that to either of us again? That can¡¯t be why I am here. I quickly grabbed my phone and typed. ¡°Alex, I decided what I am going to do about uni!¡± 10/06/2014 Looking at the calendar I can¡¯t help but think how quickly a year passed. Between gym, studying math, having fun with all of my old friends, I barely had time to think about how I got here. I thought differences in mentality would stop me from enjoying the newfound youth, but things are pretty much the same. I just know better to focus on certain things, but when it comes to interacting with people it¡¯s the same. Either I regressed a bit, or I simply got used to it. I don¡¯t feel like I am a day older than nineteen. It is a weird feeling, but feels quite good. I don¡¯t see people I am with as kids, a lot of them know what they want, they have their plans, they are all working hard to achieve those goals, spread around universities or jobs. The same way I was once. An MS let me now that it is time to go. Simple ¡°good luck today¡± from Alex. I feel ready, I know how hard I worked for it, but the anxiety is even worse than the first time I took exams. Much more at stake now, if I fail this, everything I did for the past year, from saving up money to developing love for numbers would be for nothing. At least I didn¡¯t wait until I was in my mid twenties to cut my hair to something more fitting for a young male. I wonder if I will see her today. In reality I knew she was going to be there. I remember her telling me she aced exams and got degree in four years, standard. But so much has changed then when I previously lived this part of my life. I would have been second year of my studies. What if the decision has some kind of butterfly effect and completely changes where she wants to be? Guess I¡¯ll just have to wait and see. The thought that what I was doing was pathetic couldn¡¯t leave my mind. I am sure if I told someone and they believed me they¡¯d call me insane and unable to let go. And I would agree with them. Except the past year has taught me a lot about myself and how much a person can achieve by setting their mind onto something. It showed me new sides of me, the same sides she loved in the future me. I just never let them out, because I never focused on them and I never felt confident about them. I also thought about her boyfriend back in the future. Thinking whether I would be stealing his future by doing this. But she was unhappy, in a way I justify it by telling myself that even if we cannot work out as a couple even in this life, then at least she won¡¯t go through what we went. The pain we both felt, the suicidal thoughts. Maybe at least we won¡¯t be a screwed in the head as we were and will be able to find happiness separate of each other. Not the idea I like entertaining, but in a way I would at least be at peace knowing I had a real chance, without other circumstances getting in the way. ¡°Jake Abbot?¡± the clerk called out handing me back my ID card. ¡°Yeah that¡¯s me!¡± ¡°Seat thirty-five,¡± she said pointing her finger at the very last row of seats. ¡°Let me give you a little advice. If you are that absent minded during the exam you¡¯ll fail.¡± ¡°Thank you!¡± I smiled. She didn¡¯t realize I was more focused than ever, my eyes were just wandering looking for one thing. If two months of working together, with no contact was hard, this feeling was impossible to deal with. A whole year, and at this point of my life we don¡¯t even know each other. In a way, what happened is even more cruel. In the future at least maybe, one day she would have called me, and if I were still stuck on her maybe we¡¯d have a chance. But now? We don¡¯t know each other, we are complete strangers. Everything has to start from the very beginning. I have to choose words carefully. How does one explain how he knows so many details about someone¡¯s life if they blurt them out by accident? I really hate myself for this, I am making it harder for no reason. Taking my seat I looked around, all seats taken, except the one next to me, creating a rather noticeable void in an otherwise crowded room. What are the chances? I guess I changed too much of the past and it rippled across to her. Loud knock broke the silence and my chain of thought. ¡°I am sorry I am late, bus broke down, they said it was ok for me to join because you didn¡¯t start!¡± I didn¡¯t need to look up. The tone, the speed at which she spoke, taking a deep breath before she even started, then saying million things in that one breath. I felt my heart sinking. This was so unnatural, I actually wanted to run away. All the plans of simply acting as usual felt like a pipe dream. And did it really have to be the seat next to mine. She sat down, drops of sweat adorning her face like rain drops on the windows. It was obvious she ran as fast as she could to make it in time, and at summer heat that couldn¡¯t have been an easy task. She pulled out everything needed for exam on the table, but kept rummaging through her bag. I could notice her wiping sweat and licking her lips. She forgot her water bottle. Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more. She had a habit of being slightly late, I drove her few times to work. I don¡¯t t think we ever met at agreed time. I reached with my hand and pushed mine over, without turning my head towards her. I wasn¡¯t trying to look cool, I simply couldn¡¯t. If I just as much gazed upon those mountain pasture green eyes, I would lose my mind right here. And I was afraid I would not feel the warmth I did in my previous life. She hesitated to take it. ¡°It¡¯s okay, I don¡¯t drink much water anyway, brought it just in case.¡± ¡°Thanks.¡± she whispered. Exam went on fine and I was pretty confident I nailed it and would be at the top of the list, and with my decent grades from high school I would have enough points to qualify for the free education. I also knew she would already. But she didn¡¯t know it. She was sitting on the bench in the courtyard frantically speaking on the phone about the exam exercises. I tried avoiding her noticing me, but the bench was along the road and there was no way around it. ¡°Hey!¡± she called out. There was no pretending I didn¡¯t hear it. She was a loud person. Whenever we were in the bar or anywhere else everyone could hear her part of conversation with me. But that never stopped her. ¡°Thanks for the earlier!¡± she said approaching me. I was considerably taller than her, at least a full head length. Looking down I finally caught a glimpse of her eyes. Those were not the same eyes I knew. Still just as beautiful, but they lacked the tiredness and sadness they had when I first met them. Hell these eyes were even more beautiful. ¡°I am Lorelei by the way.¡± Swallowing the spit that built up in my mouth from all the nervousness I kept containing, words barely left my lips, ¡°Jake.¡± At first I wanted to escape but now, I couldn¡¯t allow myself to blow my chance at making a genuine connection. My heart pounded in my chest to a point I felt like it was going to pierce the bones and just drop right there on the street.. I couldn''t let my nerves ruin this for me. It felt so wrong, yet so right. Lorelei tilted her head, fixating her eyes on mine. "Jake, huh? Well, nice to meet you. I hope we both did well. This whole entrance exam thing is nerve-wracking, isn¡¯t it?" I nodded, trying to muster a confident smile. "Yeah, it definitely is. But I am sure you did just fine.¡± I was careful to make it sound like I was unusually confident. ¡°Do you have any plans to celebrate afterward?" She laughed, something I rarely witnessed in my previous life. It was familiar, but more sincere and somewhat new. "Honestly? I was just planning to crash at home and sleep. But maybe I should wind down a bit and relax.¡± I grabbed the opportunity. It was now or never. "Well, how about grabbing a coffee or something? You know, just to unwind a bit. My treat." Lorelei''s eyes sparkled with amusement. "Are you asking me out, Jake? After I already took your water?" She chuckled. "You must be a pretty confident guy." I felt a blush creep up my neck. "Just trying to be friendly," I said, though my voice betrayed my nerves. Before it felt so much easier taking that first step. We built up connection on the common ground, and one thing simply led to another. But this was so much harder. "Friendly, huh?" She studied me for a moment before nodding. "Sure, why not? Let''s get that coffee." We walked to a nearby caf¨¦, the conversation flowing more naturally as we went. I was careful to let her lead, not wanting to reveal how much I already knew about her. We talked about mundane things¡ªfavorite subjects, our high schools, our plans for the future. It felt surreal, hearing this all over again, but with the weight of my past life¡¯s knowledge. It was especially eye opening knowing how it all turned out. None of the plans she laid out ever came through. For either of us. As we sipped our drinks, Lorelei leaned back in her chair, looking more relaxed. "So, Jake, you seem like you down to earth and mature guy. Any tips for surviving university?" I chuckled, thinking about my previous experience and how I barely scrapped by. "Stay organized, don''t procrastinate too much, and find a good group of friends. They''ll help you get through the tough times." "Sounds good." She smiled. "I''ll keep that in mind." We spent the next hour chatting, the initial awkwardness melting away. It was easy to see why I had fallen for her before. She was smart, funny, and had a warmth that drew people in. As the sun began to set, we decided to part ways, exchanging numbers before we did. "Thanks for the coffee, Jake. I had a great time." "Me too, Lorelei. Let''s do this again sometime." She nodded, her smile lingering as she walked away. I watched her go, feeling a mix of hope and anxiety. This was just the beginning, and I had to tread carefully. I wanted to build something real, something lasting, without the mistakes of the past. Over the next few months, we grew closer. Our study sessions turned into late-night conversations, and our coffee dates became regular. I learned to navigate the fine line between sharing enough to connect with her and holding back to avoid seeming too forward or knowledgeable. I almost completely adjusted to being another ordinary nineteen-year-old guy. All the wisdom I built over the years had disappeared. One evening, as we walked through the park, Lorelei stopped and turned to me, her expression giving away that something serious was going through her head. "Jake, can I ask you something?" "Of course." "Do you ever feel like you''re living someone else''s life? Like, no matter what you do, you''re just following a script?" Her question took me by surprise. In a way, everything so far has felt like that. I got reminded again that I have had all these experiences. And in a way I was influencing her future. Perhaps I was robbing her of her free will. "What do you mean?" She looked up at the sky, her eyes reflecting a distant sadness. "I don''t know. Sometimes I feel like there''s more to life than this, like I''m meant for something different. Do you ever feel that way?" I took a deep breath, the weight of my past and present colliding. "Yeah, I do. But I think it''s because we''re always searching for meaning, trying to figure out where we fit in. Maybe it''s not about following a script but writing our own story." Lorelei smiled, her eyes meeting mine. "I like that. Writing our own story." As we continued our walk, I felt a sense of calm settle over me. Maybe this was my second chance¡ªnot just to be with her, but to truly live my life the way I wanted. To write my own story, with Lorelei by my side. And for the first time in a long while, I felt hopeful about the future.