Mall Nostalgia
I went to the mall and saw you with your new boyfriend. Or were you engaged? There was no ring. I told my feet to move so I could compliment you on your haircut and ask how were you doing. How did you tell him about our friendship? 2008 was crazy. We stole our sneakers and practically stayed inside the closet. There was barely air inside, but we could see through the rat-chewed holes below. Did you share how you aced that math test by copying my answers? I was good at math, and you were good at everything except for saying goodbye. Everyone was jealous of us. Did you proudly share about your first kiss but conveniently leave out that it was with me? My lips were shut; I kept touching it when I got home. When you started avoiding me I thought you were just shy. How did your conservative father react? Did he threaten to send me away, so you left me instead? I didn’t go to school for a week because I solely wanted to learn about you, the lines on your palm, and the hair colors you wanted to try. But then the mother of a little girl in front of me tapped my arm lightly and said, “I’m sorry you had to hear my daughter cry. She’s in a mood.” I laughed and nodded. I wondered if you were sorry, too.
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