the_ghost_of_you_lingers tender_square i always thought that if i saw you again, that i'd be the kind of person with courage to say ‘hello,’ to engage in small talk and marvel about the way our lives had changed in the years since we had parted. last night, while waiting for ice cream, i turned my head and recognized your hair instantly; a whip of black and grey, swirled into a high bun. your bushy black beard. i don’t know if you saw me. i wore my baseball cap and my eyeglasses. my hair was a thousand different shades when we were together—would you know the natural dirty blonde it had become? surely, the shirt of my alma mater gave me away. but i wasn’t the mature person i wanted to be. i couldn’t wait in line knowing you were 10 people behind, and so i excused myself and walked back to the car, head ducked, tail tucked, and feet taking the long way, while my husband bought our desserts. it’s funny, because as i stood on the sidewalk watching cars speed to a stop, studying figures in the shadows as they ambled towards the lighted shop, i wondered if i would see you there. our old neighbourhood. the same neighbourhood you never left. as i walked away, i worried you recognized my gait, the way my body broke into movement, after knowing my limbs for seven years; that these motions are burned into memory, activated again by sight, activated by a second leaving. i idled in the car, watching you in the rear-view mirror as you stood with your long-term partner and her son, the family i’ve seen in your instagram pictures. i watched you until the line tugged you away. when my husband got into the car he said, “that was a serious synchronicity.” and i feigned ignorance. “we see your ex-husband on the day we had serious discussions about the future of our relationship. you don’t think that means anything?” and then i forced myself to eat my sundae so i wouldn’t have to talk, even though i had lost my appetite. 220530 ... past this is returning_passing for me. these glimpses of what was once familiar and is now out of context is so jarring and complex. the best we can do is lean into the emotions and not lament too much what has passed. maybe? or at least i tell myself. 220530 what's it to you? who go blather from