Carino,

    Have you ever wondered how our life could have looked if I wasn't who I am?

    I did.

    I never thought of myself as a familial person, but with you, it was different. I was 19, and I was dead-set convinced we would have at least three kids. Crazy, right?

    Now I'm almost 27 and feel like a child myself.

    It's incredible, scary, absurd and infuriating at the same time.

    I guess I suffer from arrested development now. Feel free to congratulate me. I was way more mature when I was a teen than I am now.

    Come to think of this, you were the same age as I am today when we met. Did you feel like me too? Because to me, you have always been the poster boy of maturity. Come hell and high water.

    Was that silly of me?

    My professor introduced me to you. Not quite. We got to know each other because of his dog. I needed a job, and as it happened, his dog's caretaker's business was taking off ― that's you ― he needed to find a suitable replacement. And since I both needed a job after moving to a new country and adored animals, I was offered to dogsit Amadeus. You must have been pissed at me. I realised that only after my professor's wife told me her husband sacked you without any notice.

    Rude.

    But how could I have known that, huh? It's not like you explained yourself either.

    I thought I just stumbled upon you at a dog park, you know? It has never crossed my mind; you might have been spying on me to see if I was indeed capable of caring for the dog you've raised since he was a puppy.

    It was only natural Amadeus fleed to play with Duke when you came. You knew this would happen, and I almost got a heart attack. Smartass.

    "So you're the new sitter, huh?" You asked nonchalantly.

    I struggled to drag my protectee from your dog but to no avail. So I gave up. It's not as if the dogs were fighting. They were just running around like crazy, chasing each other like other fireflies stuck in a jar. "Excuse me?" I looked up, brushing hair from my eyes to take a better look at you.

    They say the first impression is the most important. I must admit my first impression of you wasn't electrifying. Time didn't slow as I eyed you from the tip of your hat to those worn-out sneakers you loved so much and which should have ended up in a trash can a couple of years prior.

    Yes, I thought you were handsome with those dark brown eyes, black hair sticking from under your cap and hands casually stuffed into the pockets of your slacks. You were tall, with a spark in your eyes and a slightly lopsided grin as you watched me wiping off Amadeus' saliva from my trousers.

    "I used to take care of him." You pointed your chin in the dog's direction. Amadeus was on the ground, Duke towering over him in a mocked intimidation.

    The mystery was solved. I introduced myself, you provided me with your name. I commented it sounded Italian. You informed me your great-grandparents came from Perugia. I had no stories like that, so I just asked how was your business doing. You narrowed your eyes at me and simply said: good.

    Even for an as socially thick person as me, the atmosphere turned sour pretty fast, and despite the warmth of the summer sun, I felt a chill running down my spine. I told you it was time for me. I said it was nice to meet you and called for Amadeus, who must have had enough fun for that day because he came without sparing Duke a second glance. But as I was about to pull the dog in the direction of the entrance gate, you stopped me.

    "I see you still have some problems with Amadeo."

    "Wouldn't call it a problem. We only got to know each other. He'll come around, right, boy?" I looked down at the furiously panting dog by my side.

    "But with my help, it would be way faster. As I said, I've known him since he fitted into my palm." You outstretched your hand to pat the dog on the head. Now your palm could barely cover the massive Retriever's eyes.

    I must say that now I would sooner chew on my hair than accept your proposal. Surprising how experience shapes you. But I was a teen in a new city and saw that as an opportunity to make a new friend. God, was I naive back then.

    Still am.

    You invited me to your aunt's cabin for pizza and a movie, at 8PM. God, was I stupid. You spend nearly an hour of /Logan/ trying not so secretively to make out with me. What were you thinking, huh? I know what I was, and after your hand travelled way too up, I've decided I was done with ignoring you.

    Admit it, you didn't see it coming when I rolled you over, pinning your overactive hands above your head.

    "An hour of that, and you still didn't get I'm not into you?" I said in bewilderment, striding your hips as you tried to free yourself. "I have no idea why the hell did you ask me to come, but I definitely wasn't expecting to be groped on a couch during an X-man blockbuster. You got me there."

    "I-I-I didn't―" You stammered, looking at me wide-eyed. Thinking of it now, despite the circumstances, you were adorable.

    "You what?" I barked. "Next time you want to do something with me, just ask because I'm not a seer, and I have no intention of enduring your clumsy groping sessions, got it?"

    Only when you nodded, I got up, feeling utterly exhausted. I cursed myself in my thoughts for not realising that sooner. Your proposition wasn't innocent at all, and I should have known.

    "I'd better leave. Thanks for..." I shouldn't be thanking you for anything. I shook my head. "I'll just leave."

    "No! Wait!" You called for me when I was about to reach for the knob. "I'm sorry! I shouldn't have done it. I'm sorry. Truly."

    I glanced over my shoulder. You looked so panicked. Your hair was messily poking in different directions like porcupine's needles, your shirt hurriedly tugged into your pants, revealing most of the tattoos you had on your arms.

    "Don't worry. I won't tell on you." I promised, mistaking that panic for fear of being exposed as a creep. "Just don't do that to anyone ever again, okay? It's not pleasant."

    "I wouldn't mind if you told on me." To my genuine surprise, you replied. "I deserve it. But it's not it. I am sorry. I wasn't thinking. And I should."

    "Because you're the older one?" I raised my eyebrow.

    "Maybe. And because that's not who I am." You raked your fingers through your hair, and I turned to you, the thought of leaving slowly fading into the back of my mind. "Can we start over, huh? I wouldn't like to be your first bad memory from here. Please." You smiled, extending your hand in a greeting.

    Now I would have asked you if it was my responsibility for how you felt after not respecting my boundaries. I wasn't. And that sullen look on your face seemed so genuine and didn't fit your features at all. I didn't like it. So I accepted your outstretched hand and shook it with a mock vigour, introducing myself.

    So many possibilities, so many choices. Had I not accepted your proposal, would things be much different?

    I wouldn't be so brokenhearted at my own whimsical volition.

    But also, I wouldn't fall for you.

    We wouldn't spend that evening chatting about Duke nor about your dreams of becoming a landscaper. We wouldn't talk about how the hell did I end up studying Applied Mathematics, and I wouldn't fall asleep on your couch as you tried to call me an Uber. You wouldn't be so much afraid to wake me up by shaking my arm; thus, I wouldn't end up staying there until the day after when I realised I was already late for my lecture. My professor wouldn't be pissed at you for keeping his favourite student up late doing god knows what. Then you wouldn't then ask me out for a coffee as an apology for making me late for classes.

    We wouldn't come to be.

    In that way, I ponder from time to time what would we've become if I wasn't who I am.

    I would accept your offer and come with you to that concert. We'd have fun, and after those 2 weeks, I'd have to work my butt off at the uni to make up for my absence. That would be the only right thing to do before I dropped out and enrolled on an art school. In the summer we'd go for a trip you were planning for so long. You'd propose. I would say yes and kiss you, tears streaming down my eyes. We'd get married in autumn and get ourselves another dog. Duke would be jealous, but he'd come around. I'd spend my days working in my studio, drawing illustrations to the children's books I was trying to come up with. But I'd be done with this by the time you came back home. We'd take turns in cooking, and during warmer weekends, we'd go for hiking trips. If it snowed, we'd stay snuggling under a blanket.

    I'd start to teach. You wouldn't have to do all of the work, as you finally became a landscaper. We'd have a little more free time but not for long. You've always wanted to become a father, so you'd be the one to have it all figured out when I told you I was pregnant. Maybe it would have been a boy, perhaps a girl, or a surprise like twins. Who knows? We would love our kids one way or another.

    We'd be happy. I know it. Just like we were back in the days.

    I would be happy.

    I'm not happy.

    Yours truly, B