Every time I peruse those lighthearted pages of the Sunday paper I hold my breath for a moment, terrified I might see your engagement announcement. Wide-eyed I scan for your name until I can breathe a sigh of relief. Not there. Not today. I still have time.
Even as I grow up and distance myself from all those crazy teenage feelings, even as I entertain the thought of fully moving on, I still do this silly, silly thing. I wait for your name in newsprint. When I don’t see it, my breath comes back… and I’m disappointed at the same time. Maybe, a tiny part of me has her hand raised, like, “Hey, this is getting depressing. Do some new things. Kiss some new guys. You are not sixteen anymore. GET OVER IT.”
Maybe I’d like to listen to her this time.