After he broke up with me, he said something about running into me years into the future. Of course, in the wake of a break-up, I cling to the most abstract idea and spin a tall tale of foolish ramblings.
When we were together, we found love and happiness in each other. Then, I betrayed him in the worst possible way. The blame of our breakup rests squarely on my shoulders and I will never forgive myself. I do not tell this story for forgiveness or pity, for I am undeniably undeserving of both. Instead, I tell my story for the sake of a pathetic juvenile fantasy.
When we meet again, it'll be June of 2021. I'll have served an LDS Church mission and be finishing my undergraduates. He'll have finished medical school and be in Provo for his sister's college graduation, which is around the same time as mine. I was accepted to law school, he was accepted for residency.
We'll run into each other at Smith's. I'll be texting while holding a shopping basket filled with chips, salsa, and red apples. He'll be reaching into a freezer for a jar of pumpkin ice cream. As he closes the freezer door, he turns to collide with me. We both drop everything. Being horribly accident prone continues to be the only quality we share.
We make eye contact, blankly stares at first, then recognition, then shock. He smiles his wide smile that accentuates his dimples, and says, "Hannah!"
We hug, organize our groceries, and check out. We sit at a table outside of the grocery store. We ask about each other's families. He laughs and shakes his head when he hears that I am graduating in journalism instead of engineering. I laugh and shake my head when I hear that he decided to be a pediatrician instead of a pathologist.
He tells me about his wife, who he met in medical school. She's from Texas and loves swimming, Slipknot, and movies. She's putting off her own residency so they can start a family.
I tell him about my fiancé, who was a fellow intern at Deseret News. My future husband loves football, The Onion, and the electric guitar. I'm getting married and moving to New York within the month. I'll study at the NYU School of Law and my husband will be a journalist for the Associated Press.
After a while, we say good-bye and walk away. Since our break up, we've both found love, we've both found happiness. I'll still never forgive myself for hurting and losing him. He's doing just fine, though, he's long since learned to trust and love without reservation. He's with someone who gets to make him laugh, who gets to love him, and who gets to be his best friend.
When we meet again, I'll regret everything all over again.
Sheetal Tadiparty
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