on a choice

I had a choice so I threw you away.- The Chalets (Sexy Mistake)
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I think that when I see him, that it will be like a punch in the gut to me. The last time I saw him- the yelling, the hurt, the anger, the tears that flowed for so many more hours than I ever thought possible- it was hard to walk away. I couldn't imagine walking back towards him, and none of those feelings would come tumbling back.

We walk into the bar and straight up to the bartender.

Whiskey and coke, two red headed sluts, and whatever she wants,

I say, motioning to my friend.

The bartender smiles as he starts to make the drinks,

Whats the occasion?

Just enjoying the night,

we respond.

We grab the shots, clinking them together-

To being hated.

Only then do I allow myself to turn around to see him at the table. And is it just me, or is there something less exciting about him then I remember? He looks plain, bland, not the guy a week earlier I was so certain meant so much to me.

I walk past, without looking him in the eye, and settle at the far end of the table. It remains this way for most of the night- this ease of just pretending that there is a point, a spot at the table that I don't look past,

and he no longer exists to me.

I made my choice.