Tonight I ran into the girl I last went out with. Remember her? The one with whom I thought things were going well, only to find out otherwise?
We must have been meant to meet tonight. I was going out to dinner with my family, and we'd first decided to go to a Mexican restaurant. On the way there, my sister suggested we go to a new kebab place instead, and we agreed, but we found out that it was not open for business yet. So we went to the California Tortilla next door instead.
When we'd taken our seats, I thought that the girl seated behind us with her back to me had a familiar build. I thought to myself, "is that ________? Probably not. Or is it?"
She must have had a good look at us when we were ordering because the counter was directly in her field of vision. If she did, she didn't say hi. Nevertheless when she and her friend got up to trash their mess, I saw her face and was like, "oh, fuck."
I'd played this scene in my head over and over in the past. The inevitable reunion. The world is a small place after all, as they say. But I always imagined that when it did happen, I would be with my hot girl and I would be totally confident and there would be a tacit "take that, you!" hovering in the air over us. But of course I was with my family, presumably single (and rightly so). But hell, for all she knows, my sugar mama is at home with her family.
Anyway, we waved her over. It took her a while to look our way. Unless I was mistaken, she was trying to avoid looking our way. But really, she couldn't, and so she came, and we made brief introductions, and she caught up very quickly with my sister (they were co-workers, if you recall). And we said our goodbyes, and she looked at my sister and my mom, but not at me.
I understand if she felt uncomfortable. After all, she did tell me to fuck off. It feels good writing about it, too. Looking back on the incident, I realize that I am indeed over her. It did not make me sad to see her. I have to admit though, I was nervous as shit.