You said that ten years from now, we'd travel together,
that even if we had no money, we'd stubbornly pick up our bags and set off whenever we pleased.
Ten years have passed. You're on the other side of the world,
leaving your footprints everywhere, while I'm left alone, waiting, swept away by longing.
Jealous of all those years without me,
of all the different people by your side,
who know things I don't.
Note 1: First-person POV.
Note 2: A quiet story, with no big climaxes.
Note 3: No flaming, please. If it's not your thing, click the X in the upper right. Thanks.
Note 4: Written on a whim. Updates are irregular.
