Hanging by a Moment

It's Very Complicated

It's another day at Whole Foods. I'm actually here to shop this time. I've pretty much given up hope that I will ever see that guy again. It's time to move on. I've accepted it. There are other fish in the sea. None that look like that, though, but he's someone else's fish. I can't spend any more energy on him. I already feel like a crazy person. All of my friends have been begging me to let it go. Today's the day. Now's the time. Onward and upward.

I'm feeling good. Sticking to my shopping list. I need more food options for the morning and lunch, now that I am back to working from my home office most of the time. I am trying not to rely on delivery services to bring me food. It's so easy to get lazy, especially when you work from home.

I swing past the seafood department, force of habit I suppose. He's not there, no one's there, confirming the fact that I need to move on with my life. Out of the corner of my eye at the meat department I catch a glimpse of a tattoo sleeve and I get hopeful. I shake my head at myself for being so hopelessly pathetic, but I still look towards it and start to make my way over. I only see his back but I know it's him. I'd recognize those back muscles anywhere, not to mention the very distinct brothers tattoo he has on his forearm.

I'd be lying if I said my heart didn't skip a beat when I realized it's him. I hate myself. I actually hate myself for the way he makes me feel. I don't know him from a hole in the wall and yet I feel so drawn to him. I watch him as he fidgets with his hands waiting for his turn. He always seems so nervous. He changes his stance and my eyes immediately focus on his ass. I can't help it. It's beautiful. Perfectly round. I could probably rest a drink on it and it would be able to stay perfectly.

He finally speaks. I almost forgot how sweet his voice sounds, not matching the rest of him whatsoever, but it's soft and something I'd love to hear way more often. He asks for two steaks, which makes my heart sink just a little. Whoever the second person is, it seems like they're here to stay. Just like the last time when he picked my salmon I say "dammit" after he orders, hoping he remembers me and is as amused as I am.

He looks over his shoulder at me and smiles. "Too slow yet again," he teases.

"You're just doing this on purpose now."

"I guess we have the same taste."

"Full disclosure, I wasn't actually here to buy steak. I saw you and had to bust your balls."

"Good. I almost felt bad for a second."

"Almost."

Dimples. "Mhmm."

"I've been wondering, how did the seasoning go over? Did you like it?"

"I did, yeah."

"And your...?" I can't help myself. I need to know where I stand with him. I need to know who he's making these meals for. I need to know if I'm wasting my time hoping I can turn this into something real.

"Uh. Girl...ex...friend? My friend. I guess."

"Oh. You could have just said it's complicated." I really want to jump out a window, no, off the planet. I need to jump off this planet. I knew it was too good to be true. Me and my hope. Hope is for suckers.

"It's very complicated."

"She liked it, though?" I cringe at my question. Why am I asking? I don't care. I feel as if I just had my heart ripped out of my chest and stomped on.

"Loved it. Thank you."

"No problem." I never would have suggested my favorite seasoning in the world if I knew it was potentially helping the man of my dreams get back together with his girlfriend. "Are you cooking for her again?" What is wrong with me? Just shut up, Veronica. Walk away. Save yourself.