Seeing the person who used to make your heart stop for the first time in a year breaks you, and then heals you. Seeing him, I was overcome with the oddest sensation: I saw him and I broke. No, wait, I was healed. I was surprised my heart remembered to beat. He looked at me and told myself, “Breathe in.” He started coming my way so I reminded myself, “Breathe out.” He was standing in front of me, “Breathe in.” He said with a seemingly bright smile, “How have you been?” Over a year was spent imagining what this moment would feel like. I pictured it dark, gloomy. I pictured myself weeping in my car afterwards. I pictured him being just as sad that our friendship was crushed over the past year. Instead, I was happy. That’s what I needed. “Breathe out.” He was happy, he wasn’t nervous, he wasn’t sad that our friendship ended. He was okay. That’s what I was craving; to see how completely unaffected he was. “Breathe in.” I replied. I held my breath until he was gone, afraid of what I might say if my lips weren’t otherwise occupied. I snuck one more glance at him, to see if I would see something other than disgust. I did. I saw our stories. I felt our laughter. I heard our hushed voices as secrets passed through our lips. I tasted my tears. And then I saw disgust. Not in him, but in myself. All of that, shared with the wrong person.
D.P
