Not exactly my best


I always thought that if I saw you again I’d… wait no. I never thought I would see you again. When we met you told me “I will go back to my home country in two years” well that was three years ago, and yet you’re still here. See, I left, and even now when the realization of being back is just starting to set in, the chunk of time in which I’ve been else where is becoming less evident. When I see you though, it’s not like that, not at all. Looking at you and listening to you say “Hey. How are you?” makes me remember that my whole life has happened since I was here before. I made movies, I cried, I fell in love, I got taken advantage of, I had a job, and so much more. A whole life happened since the last time he had held my hand. The first time I saw you since I’ve moved back was across the room at some bar, I was chatting it up with some guy who was the hiring manager at an apple bee’s (I knew this was not a job someone would lie about to make themselves sound better) and you just came waltzing in. My world stopped for a split second and I watched you go up to the other end of the bar. Then you left.

This time, well on Saturday, you saw me. I was downtown, carrying a nice wine buzz that left me ambivalent to anything I should really care about. Just the same though as I was walking up to the second level of this bar– the same one I had seen you at before– you grabbed my shoulder and said “hey. how are you?” in an accent that I never really liked on anyone except you. I looked hot, but it probably wasn’t my best. Considering that I wasn’t in charge of anyone that night, my words might not have even come out completely clear. I smiled and pretended that a whole world hadn’t passed since the last time we talk and as I walked away this time I looked over my shoulder and told you to look me up on facebook (wow I can’t believe I said that, I MUST have been a bit… well yeah) and that we should get together soon.

Waking up the next morning I vaguely remembered having said that to you and regretted it almost instantly. When did I become that girl that wanted to get together just to shoot the shit with a guy from the past. Oh wait. No. That’s not me. I’m sure we’re different people now, but with the same conflict. He’s pushy, and I’m arrogant.

So there you go.

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