After that, things don’t quite land.

I drove to my friend’s house for lunch, 
unaware that I was already stepping into life after.

We’d agreed to meet. It was on the list.

My last few days in Asia were a list. 
Scheduled goodbyes. Check-ins.
People I needed to show up for. 

I went mostly out of obligation. 
Showing up always felt easier than not.

My best friend wasn’t even home.
She didn’t know I’d be dropping by.

I’d planned it with her mother-in-law. 
Her husband happened to be around too. 

We were already drifting. 
Neither of us saying it. 

Still, I showed up.

Everything felt familiar. 
But not quite right. 

The furniture.
The dogs.

Even the fluorescent light felt harsher than I remembered.

I used to come here after school,
hiding from the version of myself I had to be at home.

If I got back before six, 
I could dodge my dad’s disapproving look.
The one that always said out again?

Lunch was served.

Her kakak made my favorite dish, 
hot, fragrant rice with fish sambal
that punched exactly where it should.

And of course I told them about almost drowning.
Casual. 
Like it was comedy. 
Like a scene I wasn’t sure I survived. 

Aunty laughed, 
somewhere between amused and uneasy.

I let her.

I was never “wild.”
Just restless. And curious.

The days blurred after that.

I wrapped up my trip and flew back to California.
Another new-old life waiting.

I met up with some London friends who’d just moved here.
Lunch again. 
A repeat scene.
Different hemisphere.

And of course, the drowning story came up.

This time I wasn’t even trying to be funny.
The humor slipped out anyway. 

But they didn’t laugh.

He didn’t, at least. 

The one with piercing blue eyes
that reminded me too much of the water.

He looked straight at me and said,
“You know this is your second chance in life, right?”

Everything froze.

A jolt ran through me, sharp and ugly.

Then he moved on.
Back to small talk.
Back to normal.

“If you could do life all over again, what would you do differently?”

Everyone answered. 

Some serious. 
Some joking.

I smiled but my mind was elsewhere. 

The weight in my chest didn’t move.
It stayed.
Pressed in.

What am I doing with this borrowed time?