My guilt left me feeling nauseous every time I thought about that night. I made myself stop talking to you, because I knew that if I didn't, I'd begin to like you. It was like I was a fish, moving out of the lake and into a tree; I had never felt so empty.
You would text me, and I looked for reasons why I couldn't reply. I hid behind the excuse of work, and I did my best to pretend you didn't exist. I tried to remind myself why I was with the boy I was seeing, and for a while it worked. But he didn't get me, and he never opened up. It was like looking into a reflection, seeing my own thoughts and opinions regurgitated back to me. He wasn't passionate about anything I was passionate about, and vice versa. He was nice, and I liked him. But there was no spark, we didn't click. Eventually we ran out of things to talk about and I knew the relationship was dead. Still, I thought that it might work, that this was good and it wasn't settling.
It was a Sunday in October when I had woken up early and couldn't stay at home. I'd gotten around, put on my favorite sweater, because it was just beginning to be that time of year, and took my dog out for a walk. But the sunrise adventure hadn't been enough, and I wasn't satisfied with staying inside while the sun was shining. So I got in my car and I went to Biggby for some breakfast.
It was a surprise to see you there, standing behind the counter with your green company t-shirt on. Keep Calm and Drink Biggby. I was dumbfounded, and I couldn't speak at first. I wanted to apologize to you, but I didn't know how. So instead, we picked up where we had left off like nothing had happened, like I hadn't ruthlessly pretended you didn't exist for the last several months.
I stayed in the store for four hours, and in between customers, you would sit down and we would catch up. It had turned out to be a beautiful day, and I was again glued to my phone, awaiting your every reply.