"It was good to see you."
I bristled at his words. They were stock. Standard.
Running into old acquaintances is awkward. Running into him is ... impossible. I shook my head several times trying to clear it away. The glance, the quick decision to dash and then getting stopped before I could. I was never going to dash. That was never the plan when I rehearsed the situation every night just in case. But then, seeing him, it was the only decision.
I remember the first Saturday after he left--or maybe it was the first Saturday I got out of bed after he left--I went to breakfast alone. We would always jog to the bagel place on Colima and then split a bagel. That sounds too perfect. It never was. Usually we would argue about attire or cream cheese or whatever and then I would get upset because I was tired of running outdoors and he would roll his eyes and then I would get more upset because I was so misunderstood.
Going alone was like finally being understood. I drove.
"Are you guys talking again?"
How she knew I will never know. They say that some people have a sixth sense about stuff like this. I don't understand.
"Yeah, but we're stopping."
Saying it out loud reaffirmed my decision. It was the fifth time I had to reaffirm my decision. The decision that we were stopping.
"So you are talking?"
"Kinda. But we're stopping. It's not working out. It's was an experiment and it's not working out."
I still had to stop.
Original post here.