Of all the corners in the world, he happened to be in mine.
An old flame, but more appropriately, the one who got away.
And what did I do?
Nothing at all.
In the panic of such a tangible encounter I resorted to old ways. Fixing my head downwards, eyes locked onto the pavement for dear life, and all in hopes that he wouldn’t notice me.
And what was I so afraid of?
I was frightened of small talk.
Of being asked “so what are you doing with yourself these days?”. Because an honest account and response feels so shameful to me. How does one even begin to properly articulate such hardship in life? How do you express how little you’ve come to accomplish, when that person more than likely has exceeded all expectations.
Hell, he was probably even married.
While I wish I had the strength to look up confidently and meet his eyes – eyes that were always filled with admiration, I was afraid of him regarding me right then and there.
As I am today.
Life’s greatest loser.