I Cried Into A Bread Bowl

There was a time in high school when I was set up on a date with a girl who only agreed to it because she was under the impression it was my brother that she would be meeting with.

And to this day, I still remember the look of sheer disappointment on her face when it was me who showed up.

Awkward, but understandable. I know who I was.

I ate Panera alone that night.

Fast forward over a decade later

I have loved and lost and had memorable highs and even more memorable lows. I’ve had one night stands, I’ve had long term relationships. I’ve been cheated on, lied to, ghosted, blocked.

But the most painful are those rare moments.

The moments when I truly fall for someone. And I can start to feel comfortable around them. Safe and cared for.
At ease just long enough to let my walls down, unlock my heart for a bit, and truly be myself.

My true, unapologetic, weird and quirky self.

And get greeted by that same face.

And suddenly I’m in a Panera again. Being told there was a misunderstanding.

That I wasn’t who they were expecting me to be.

Awkward, but understandable.

My point is, I’m sorry if you feel like I’m holding back or if I seem uncomfortable.

I just don’t want to eat stale bread alone anymore.