Sometimes You Gotta Let It Go
I’m a working girl again (you’re going to be hearing this many, many times), which means I’ve got a little bit of income to spend on not-so-necessary items.
Things like the Elsa Paretti intial pendants at Tiffany. (Do you really have to ask which one?)
I didn’t get the necklace. Tiffany ran out of a lot of the alphabet during Mother’s Day and I have to wait for more to be made. But that’s a post for another day.
However, due to the failure of being able to splurge on one ridiculously expensive item, I figured I’d balance it out by getting formerly expensive items that were now on sale. *cough*Anthropologie*cough*
Fate decided that I wouldn’t buy anything, but chose to throw something from my past in my face instead.
I walked into my old retail employment place at the Grove, just to see if anything caught my eye. No material goods did, but I saw someone I used to work with standing at the cashwrap.
It could have been a happy reunion, but this person in particular was a failed crush.
Actually, it was a little bit more than a crush at the time. Pseudo-dating you might have called it. I was thrilled: a straight guy who was interested in me in the world of retail? Can I get a “SAY WHAT?!”
We did a lot of the subtle things two people do when they’re into each other. I’d sit next to him during the AM meeting. He’d grab my arm when we passed by the clock. I’d try to wake him up in the break room by blowing on his ear. He’d pull me aside at a party to try and sneak in a kiss.
There were problems. He was on the rebound with a kid. I was leaving the world of retail to go into the world of hospitality. Not a whole lot of opportunity to try and make a relationship. We attempted to make one last stab at going on a real date, but it ended up with us awkwardly sitting across the room from each other in his apartment.
The last time I actually spoke to him in person was about two or three years ago. He was [still] working at the same retail location and looked exhausted. I said hello, we chatted for a little bit, and I suggested that we catch up over coffee or something. He agreed, and I reconfirmed that the number logged in my phone was still current.
Once I got home, I sent a text, saying it was good to see him.
The response I got back? “I don’t know who this is.”
I’m going to admit that for a split second, I thought about going up to him to say hello. However, I’ve come to realize that there are certain things you have to pass on, even though there’s that little bit of you tucked away inside that would like to try and at least make things civil.
So I did a quick walkthrough of the Women’s Floor, threw one last glance at him, and then walked out the door.