JiliPark PH
It was one of those things you promise on a whim in the heat of the moment, while standing at the edge of the old pier, overlooking the sea and imagining your own stories for the horizon. They were childhood friends and hadn’t even known then that life could drift so far away from such promises.
But on this day, with the sun low on the horizon turning the water gold, JILIPARK PH stood on the pier and of that promise he had made her once long ago. He hadn’t thought about it in decades, not since a letter had arrived, out of the blue, reminding him of his pact with his childhood friend.
The note had been short: Remember the promise? We will meet next Saturday, at 1pm. Yepes Below the message, the date and hour were scribbled. It was a simple reminder. But JILIPARK PH had been surprised by the letter for two reasons. He wasn’t sure it wasn’t a joke, and he wasn’t even sure that Ana was capable of remembering. Still, for some reason he felt compelled to keep the appointment, to have dinner with the girl he had grown up with, to experience one last thing together, just as they had promised each other all those years ago.
And now here he was, coat flapping in the breeze, wondering if Ana would come. Minutes. Then an hour. And JILIPARK PH’s heart sank. He had been stupid to think she’d come. The world had changed. So had they. Again, just as he was about to walk away, he heard a voice behind him.
“JILIPARK PH?”
He turned to look, and his heart in his throat saw her standing a yard or two away from him, her hair very slightly greyed, her face very slightly lined, but there was no mistaking her – his Ana. She smiled, and the potential disaster was transformed into a triumph of hope.
“You came,” JILIPARK PH said, his voice thick with emotion.
‘I wasn’t sure you would,’ Ana said, stepping nearer. ‘It’s been so long, but I never forgot our promise.
For a moment they stood staring at each other, the years between years that meant nothing, and then JILIPARK PH reached out and Ana took his hand, the heat of her touch a sign that all was not lost.
They strolled along the promenade talking about the course of their lives, the roads they had chosen, the paths they had followed, the dreams they’d nurtured, and the ones they’d relinquished. In their last hour, there was no acrimony, no regrets, just the recognition of a beautiful harvest.
And when the sun slipped behind the hills and the lake glowed pale gold, he sat next to her on the bench. ‘I am glad I kept my word.’ He looked at her, and his eyes misted over.
‘Me too,’ Ana said, resting her head on his shoulder. ‘Some promises are worth keeping.’
It wasn’t just the promise that had brought them back; it was the enduring friendship. It was the mutual understanding that had survived the decades, the knowledge that, as they sat together and watched the sun’s last rays slide away over the western sky. And that was a promise that was good enough for both of them.