This is not a love story.
When our eyes met
And we felt that spark,
That connection,
We smiled.
I did not go over and talk to you
And you did not giggle
At my poor attempts to be suave.
You did not twirl your hair
Or look down at the ground
As I complimented your eyes.
We did not strike up a conversation
As we stood in line at the supermarket.
You didn’t tell me the chicken and potatoes were a special treat for your little sister,
And I didn’t admit that my top ramen was the only thing I could cook.
I didn’t offer to carry your bag,
And you didn’t give your number in return.
I didn’t call you after the appropriate number of days.
We didn’t go out for coffee
And I didn’t get to hear your life story.
I didn’t get to smile at your blush
As you admitted you had a thing for Harrison Ford.
I didn’t get a chance to smile and cheekily say that I did too.
We didn’t have that first kiss,
So clumsy and so awkward,
Yet perfect.
We didn’t go out on a second date,
Or a third
Or tenth,
Or a hundredth.
We didn’t go back to that coffee shop
And I did not get down on one knee
And get to hear you say yes.
We didn’t bicker about wedding details
I didn’t get to tell you that I hated red velvet
And that it was impossible to get Ed Sheeran to play at our wedding.
I didn’t feel my heart flutter as I waited at the alter
And I didn’t get that high of seeing you in that white dress
Smiling your shy smile.
You didn’t walk down the aisle.
There were no vows
No declarations of love.
We didn’t get to say I do.
There was no wedding kiss
No wedding dance
No honeymoon.
We didn’t buy a house.
We didn’t name our first child Harrison.
Times never got hard,
And things never seemed close to breaking.
We never fought.
We never reconciled.
Our children never went to college,
And we never got grandkids of our own.
We didn’t celebrate our 10th anniversary
Or our 20th.
Our 60th.
I didn’t get to hold your hand
As the doctor diagnosed Alzheimer’s.
I didn’t take you to your plethora of doctor visits.
You didn’t forget my name.
You didn’t forget Harrison’s name.
I never held your hand as you degraded right before me.
I didn’t shed a tear as I heard your last breath
And I didn’t kiss your forehead one last time before they took away.
We didn’t have a wonderful life together.
We didn’t have a life together.
All because when I met your eyes at the grocery store
In line with our chicken, potatoes, and top ramen,
I didn’t take a chance.
You went on your way and I went on mine.
This is not a love story.