One Day

(Inspired by “One Day” – the book by David Nicholls and 2011 film directed by Lone Scherfig)

“She made you decent and you made her so happy,” he told me one day
The anniversary of when Emma and I met in London a few years ago
I thought about when we were together, how we fought so many times
How could we even think about what would happen?  How could we know?
We were both students at University of Edinburgh and graduated in 1988
On St. Swithin’s Day, we walked together up a deep green grassy hill
And we vowed back then we would be the best of friends
Thinking what we said was a dream that we’d fulfill

We made it a point that we’d reunite that same holiday every year
I’m not sure why we chose July 15th and neither did she
All I know is what we experienced as we grew together and apart
was our delightful yet twisted and tangled history
She met others and married the guy who I mentioned first
and I married my long-time girlfriend Sylvie
In between those happy memories are when we went our own way
She just never seemed to believe in me

For I was not the kind of guy she had been looking for
I wasn’t the one she wanted for all time
All the moments we spent together she was so confused
It was like we had the right words but never could rhyme
One night she and I met up at a wedding of our friends
and we talked for hours on the hotel roof
Then it seemed like the connection we had was something unique
If our friendship was glass, then it would be shatterproof

After we both got divorced from our partners, it was obvious
We were destined to give us the old University try
So we were married up on that same hill we walked up
On July 15th, she married this lucky and grateful guy
We couldn’t have any children, but that was fine with us
We had our place, we had our truest love that made us laugh
Until that fateful afternoon as she rode her bike she was hit
On my register at our cafe, there is a photograph

Her ex-husband stopped in the other day and we had a little chat
“She made you decent and you made her so happy,” he said
And I instantly replied I’d be open to talking with him again
“No, I think we’re done here,” then took off with his bread
Every St. Swithin’s Day I go up to that old, sweet grassy hill
And I think about that truest love that we shared
I now know that I was such a fortunate man
All because of my sweet Emma who deeply cared.

Written in 2016, Revised in 2017

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Published by Matthew Kenneth Gray

http://bit.ly/2lA8Gh1

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