Never

Dear You,
We saw each other. She was down the isle, eye contact was made, and we were on our way as if nothing had ever happened. It was one of those moments that happened so quickly you have trouble coming to an agreement with your mind wether or not it actually happened. She had only three items in her cart, three items that will always puzzle me as to what she actually needed them for. What did she need anything for? We both knew that in two metaphysical seconds she would no longer be exceptionally alive. What the world didn't know, was that she would never need the cat food. Well, she wouldn't need it, but the cats would; thats not to say that they ever actually got the food. The soap she only wanted emotionally, so she could stare at it a while before she put it in the linen closet underneath her Sesame Street blanket from when she was a child. And the third, and perhaps strangest item, was a baby doll, that when prompted said, "I love you." She was never one for expressing emotions easily, and when she did they were always a jumble between what she wanted to say, and what she accidently happened to say due to her awkwardly mumbling on. As we past each other, as I, passed the bread and the puddings, the different kinds of Jellies, and Jams. I always wondered why they didn't put the peanut butter with the jelly. Don't they belong together? We had just made contact, when I went of into my self rants of why the peanut butter should be placed near the jelly. I noticed, just then, that my fly was open. But, that wasn't what made me concerned. I was concerned, because she wasn't looking. These used to be the things that we always joked about. I guess she's moved on, I thought to myself. Come to find out later, she had been looking at my exposed crotch, and secretly laughing her awkward crack-addict laugh that she had, that made me laugh whenever it was in its fullest awkwardness. She went home that night, put Neil Diamond on, and dreamt she could fly. As she dreamed on, she walked on, towards herself, in a mirror. Beyond the mirror, and into my head. Just past that and down the hall, was a balcony. Luckily, she woke up before she had the chance to fall out of it. Unfortunately, the moment she realized how silly she had almost been, and how lucky she was always, she just happened to slip on a garbage bag left by me when I moved out. She fell, and she had never stopped falling. I have to go, it takes quite a bit longer to find a good black outfit these days. I don't have the energy.

Love,
Mr. Me