Fate.

I'd like to believe that fate and the universe joined forces to throw us together on that blistering day last June but unfortunately my reasoning prevents me.
Even still, it was pretty miraculous.

I'd thought of so many reasons not to go that day and yet I knew they were pointless excuses, designed to fool myself. But I knew I was fooling myself so it was a waste of time and brain function. I dragged myself out of bed (which I'd reluctantly entered several hours previously), showered, dressed and trudged out the door, down the high street and towards you, though I didn't know that then.

Despite the fact that I was already there, I was still thinking of reasons not to be. I could so easily have turned round but I didn't and I'm glad that I didn't because the second my eyes hit upon you, your image blanketed over all my excuses.
Outside that shop that's been closed for as long as I can remember. The shop that I barely registered anymore, that will now stand alone in my mind everytime I pass, like my vision in reverse.
There you stood, guitar in hand.

You were different to the men busking in the square - for one, you weren't old and for another, you could sing. But you sang quietly, a melody, rather than screaming at the passers by so that they would pay you to stop. The men in the square were there so often they had blended into the background, just like the shop you were stood by and just like the thousands of people milling past with a casual ignorance as was the fashion.

It took me a while to work up the courage to talk to you. Several long dithering minutes passed in starbucks as I peered at you from the window. Of course, by the time I'd given myself a good mental-kicking, helped along with an irish coffee to go, I was more sure of myself than ever and you noticed.

The End

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