if she was able to count them all, she would see that 12,456 people have passed through her life. she will have met 65,657 by the end.
there was her kindergarten teacher who told her she’d be a flight attendant some day (she did not), the manager at her first job, and the young man she went out on two dates with but decided on the first date that she didn’t like him because of his inability to talk about anything other than himself. she will never know what happened to them. she will never hear that the first one died of cancer seventeen later. her former boss still manages the restaurant she only thinks of twice a year, randomly, when someone mentions the word “skillet”. the last one is married now and lives with his wife and two kids in new jersey.
don’t they all live in new jersey?
she doesn’t have romantic notions anymore because she’s exactly where she wants to be. as she lies on his bed, watching the pattern the sun makes through the trees, she touches the sheets to remind (more…)