At the Supermarket

I stopped by the supermarket on the way home from work, just to pick up a couple of things. Somewhere between the bread aisle and the produce section, though, I found you.

You didn’t react to me at all. You probably didn’t even know I was there. And even if you did, you were never one to duck and run, so you had to be pretending I was invisible.

I saw you, Robin, and what once was came flooding back. The kisses, the laughs, the petty arguments all assaulted my mind.

Then images of when you left followed: the dark apartment, the letter on the coffee table, the empty bedroom.

I thought, about running over to you and hugging you, about telling you that I was miserable without you, about groveling and trying to convince you to pretend none of it had happened. I wanted to tell you that Andy could never measure up to you.

I would have promised you anything, if it meant you’d take me back. I would have put my worthless career, my phony engagement, my mom’s bullshit opinions aside if it meant I could be with you.

I would have settled for a simple ”Hello.”

But instead, I stared and watched you walk away. After seeing you for the first time in more than a year, I didn’t do anything.

And by the way, I didn’t accept when he proposed. But I didn’t decline either.
I just told him it was too soon. He’s still waiting for me to change my answer. I probably never will.

I wish I’d had the courage to talk to you then. I wish I’d asked you to help me set the record straight with everyone. I wish I’d swallowed my pride and begged you to help me start over again.

More than anything, though, I wish I knew the truth.
Did you wave at me before you headed for the register, or was I desperate enough to imagine it?