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When the waiter handed me the bill, he had to tap me twice on the shoulder to check that I wasn't lost in a trance. I opened my purse, handed him some crisp bills, and proceeded to watch my past run wild in my head.

Inside this dimly-lit restaurant that played Bollywood music, whose melody and charm I could never understand, I saw the younger version of myself right in front of me--right there, sitting at the table where a group of people seemed to be having a celebratory dinner to mark some successful business deal.

She looked both familiar and different. She had the same dark brown hair, the same figure, and the same smile that lit up her face whenever someone made a joke.

Only her eyes looked different. Her eyes had that certain twinkle, that vague innocence, and that same subtle magic she had carried around for so many years in the past. I saw that younger version of myself, right there in front of me, so clearly for the first time.

And she looked so innocent, so hopeful, so naive. She looked like the kind of girl who would give her heart to someone in a heartbeat, who would act on something she isn't even sure of, and who sees everyone as good, kind-hearted, and would never do her harm. And in her hands, she held all her emotions for the entire world to see.

How I missed being that girl. How I longed to hold my feelings in my hands and feel every inch of magic I had lost all those years. How I wished to bring back that innocence and trust I had all but lost and could neither get back nor give in return.

In this dimly-lit restaurant that played Bollywood music, I saw what I had become a little more clearly. How I prayed to God to revive the love and faith that had died in me without me even knowing it.

More importantly, how I prayed to God to give me the courage to forgive. Because when I finally decided to call Matt's mobile phone at some time past 10 that evening, he never picked up.

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