The Meeting Spot

We had plans to meet here. We made it a tradition within the first few weeks we knew each other, when we were still learning all there was to know about another person. I wish we could go back to those weeks, those days where I started noticing how his laugh had turned into mine and how I had adopted all his little phrases and manuerisms. This type of thing is bound to happen when you spend every minute possible with another human being over a long period of time. I also started noticing how different we were from one another. Whereas I was too shy to tell the waiter when my order was wrong, he was the first one to let you know you’d made a mistake. I loved him for it but I also despised his bravery. I didn’t think it was fair that he had all this courage and I paled in comparison- a timid, insignificant half of our whole. I decided I was done waiting. Its been an hour, I thought to myself. He isn’t coming. As I walked home, my pace much slower than normal in hopes of running into him, I couldn’t help but dwell on why I even expected him to be there in the first place. The last time we talked wasn’t exactly what you would call a pleasant conversation. I kept telling myself to let it go all the way up until my doorstep, where I found flower petals leading to a note on my welcome mat.