“Choose Your Own Adventure”
I can hear your exit echo in the stunned
silence. The click of your dressy shoes across the
tiled restaurant floor, the whoosh of the door
cutting into the angry night air, your retreat
down the sidewalk, unconsciously avoiding the cracks,
hands in your pockets, not knowing what to do with them.
I can feel the people trying not to watch,
silently betting on whether I’ll cry or run after you.
This cozy Italian place, the backdrop for our first
date, is now our birth announcement and obituary,
the alpha and omega of us. Our favorite place,
that turned out only to be mine, never meant a thing to you.
Like one of those books when you’re a kid, that let you
choose the hero’s path, you’ve run away from the
quest and I’ve decided that this princess doesn’t
need saving after all. As I ordered a tiramisu,
I imagine I can hear the people applauding in their
minds and see the women smiling behind their white napkins.