There were so many ways I imagined it would go when I saw you again. So many different scenarios that played on repeat in my head. But none of them prepared me for the real thing. None of them perfectly captured the blue of your eyes or the crooked tilt of your smile. I hadn’t planned for the lump that would block the air in my throat or the effort my heart would make to erupt out of my chest and find you across the room.
And oh my dear, how could I have known the tsunami of emotions that I would feel when your eyes met mine. In your eyes, I saw the good that we had once been, and the happiness I thought I had found in you. I heard the nights in bed where the sound of your breath was my lullaby. All I wanted was another chance to start over and hope that this time, things would end differently.
Just by your presence alone I felt the all too familiar pull and I was tempted, oh so tempted, to give in like I had so many times before. But instead, I force myself to remember the mistrust and the days of silence, of not knowing where you were. So instead of crossing to where you stood, I forced myself to walk away.