I was sitting on my bed and reading a book, completely absorbed, when my mother suddenly came into the room.

„Elora, I have to tell you something,“ she said with this tone, where I immediately knew something was coming.

Slowly I put the book aside and looked at her.

„Altin’s family has moved back here. They live here again now. And tomorrow we’re going to visit them.“

At that moment I was almost out of breath.

Altin.

The guy I played with every day as a kid. The one with whom I laughed, argued and at some point just couldn’t get along anymore.

At some point we really couldn’t stand it anymore. It was as if this friendship had developed into pure hatred - and now I’m supposed to see him again after all these years?

Our families, the Zeqiris and the Shalas have always been close to each other – really close. Everyone knows each other: parents, uncles, aunts, grandparents, all. We are Albanians, and our families stick together. They never lost sight of each other, not even when they moved away. Just Altin and I – we were the only ones who had no contact anymore.

And now... should I just stand in front of him again tomorrow as if nothing had ever happened?

I didn’t know whether to laugh, scream or just run away.

But one thing was clear: tomorrow everything would come up again. The memories. The anger. And maybe what I’ve been trying to forget for so long.