#3004. Mostar, Bosnia and Herzegovina
Original photo: @kein
Amina returns to the town of her youth ten years after leaving, unaware that the memories of the past will resurface, reminding her of the young love she once left behind.
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Transcript
The Talgo train had never been my preferred mode of transportation, but I had to make do with it for my journey home. Home. The word itself felt foreign, unfamiliar. When I left Mostar to pursue my university studies in another country, I never imagined that an entire decade would pass before I returned. A part of me longed to see the town I grew up in, yet another part whispered that some memories were best left untouched.
Stepping off the train, I scanned my surroundings, noticing how much had changed. The core of the town remained the same, but subtle differences stood out, making me feel like a stranger in a place I once called my own. Only two things remained unaltered by time—Stari Most and the Neretva River flowing beneath it. Most days, the river’s dark waters moved at a slow, steady pace, but when the weather shifted, it transformed into something wild, thrashing against the rocks like a trapped animal.
My usual route home didn’t require crossing the bridge, yet I still found myself drawn to it. Almost immediately, I regretted my decision. The stones beneath my feet were uneven, their surfaces deceptively smooth, treacherous even without the presence of water. The weight of my suitcase only added to the struggle, making each step feel heavier. This was a mistake.
I planned to turn back before reaching the center of the bridge, to walk away before the past could catch up with me. But then, ahead in the distance, a small crowd gathered. Tourists, their voices loud and animated, formed a loose circle, waving money in outstretched hands. At the center stood a man, smiling as he collected their offerings, gesturing for more.
Even from afar, recognition struck me hard. I knew him. I knew exactly what he was doing.
The only question was whether Daris had seen me. And if he had, did he remember?
I was ready to leave, to continue walking as if I had never seen him. But then, his head turned. Our eyes met. For a moment, nothing changed in his expression—no surprise, no shock. Then, a single nod. He had noticed.
And suddenly, I couldn’t bring myself to walk away.
Daris passed the collected money to another man, likely a business partner, before turning toward the edge of the bridge. Stepping up onto the ledge, he pulled off his shirt, leaving it behind as he prepared to jump. I could do nothing but watch, mesmerized by the sight of him standing there—shoulders squared, gaze fixed ahead, the town rising behind him in a backdrop of sunlit stone and red rooftops.
And then, without hesitation, he leaped.
My heart clenched in my chest, just as it had all those years ago—back when he didn’t dive for an audience but for me.
Gasps and startled cries echoed from the tourists as Daris plunged toward the river below. Though the fall lasted only seconds, time stretched endlessly for me. I watched him hit the water, disappear beneath the surface… and then, nothing.
A cold wave of panic crept up my spine.
Then—finally—he emerged, raising a hand above the waves, signaling that he was unharmed.
He was safe. And I needed to leave.
I quickened my pace, ignoring the slick, uneven stones beneath me, determined not to stop. I had been given enough reminders of the past—I didn’t need more. I was nearly home when a voice called out behind me, growing louder as it neared.
Daris had followed.
Reaching me, he stepped in front, blocking my way. His hair was still damp, his skin cool from the water. His chest rose and fell with deep breaths as he studied me, searching for something in my expression. I said nothing.
For a long moment, he simply looked at me. Then, his fingers curled around mine, bringing my hand to his lips in a slow, deliberate movement. The warmth of his mouth pressed against my knuckles, sending a familiar, unwelcome rush of emotion twisting through my stomach.
He had waited for me.
The weight of those words, unspoken yet understood, settled deep inside me. That feeling—the one I thought had disappeared long ago—stirred once more.
Years ago, I had loved him with a force that once felt unbreakable. But I had left—for my future, for the life I wanted. I told myself I had outgrown it. That I no longer cared.
But I was wrong.
The truth settled in, undeniable. The love I had buried still existed, hidden beneath years of distance and silence. And in this moment, as Daris brushed his cool palm against mine, I knew he felt it too.
Maybe that was why he had chased me through town like a man unwilling to let go.
His invitation came as no surprise—to spend time together, away from the world, just like before.
I barely hesitated.
A force stronger than reason pulled me to follow him. And I was powerless to fight it.
As we walked, nostalgia wrapped itself around me. This was how it had always been—me beside him, drawn in despite myself. He spoke of changes in the town, pointing things out along the way, but his words barely registered. I wasn’t listening. I didn’t need to. I had already made my choice.
Daris’ house remained exactly as I remembered—small, intimate, barely any free space. But I barely took it in before we reached the bedroom, my suitcase forgotten at the door.
His gaze lingered on my face, as if seeing me anew.
Had I changed? The answer was obvious. And yet, as he looked at me, his expression told me otherwise.
There was no reason to wait any longer.
We stepped closer, the space between us disappearing as the tension that had always existed pulled us in.
The first kiss was both familiar and new. Lips meeting in a dance we had performed countless times before, yet different now—older, rawer. My hands traced the dampness of his skin, remembering all the times we had been like this before. The scent of the river still clung to him, just as it had when I used to scold him after his reckless dives.
Time had changed us.
And yet, in this moment, nothing had changed at all.
There was no need for hesitation, no slow buildup. The hunger between us was immediate. The craving for connection, for the pleasure only we could give each other, surged to the surface.
He pulled my sweater over my head, and for a fleeting second, I wondered if my mismatched underwear or the scent of travel lingered. But Daris didn’t seem to care, so neither did I.
Desire burned through me—hot, urgent. I wanted it rough. Fast. I needed to drown in sensation, to leave no space for anything else.
His hands moved behind me, unclasping my bra, sliding it away. There was no shyness in me, no hesitation. He had seen me like this before.
His mouth found my skin, reverent yet hungry, his lips whispering over me as if rediscovering something once lost.
The rest of our clothes vanished in moments.
When Daris reached for a condom, he hesitated, glancing at the bed as though inviting me to lie down. Instead, I shook my head.
This time, he would be the one beneath me.
Smiling, he followed my silent request, stretching out beneath me.
Confidence surged through me as I straddled him, moving with an ease I never had in the past. His dark gaze stayed locked on mine, appreciation clear in his expression.
There was no teasing, no waiting.
I took him in completely, the fullness overwhelming, exquisite. My hands splayed against his chest as I rode him, the rhythm uneven at first before settling into something deeper, more consuming.
Daris groaned beneath me, his hands exploring my body, teasing every sensitive inch. His hips met mine, pushing deeper, sending waves of pleasure through me.
The moment overtook us, raw and unfiltered, bodies moving in desperate harmony.
And just when I thought it was over—when the peak of pleasure consumed us both—Daris pulled me beneath him once more, his mouth trailing lower.
As his lips found me again, a whispered welcome against my skin, I knew I had never truly left.