Supermoon

Thinking about the time I saw you on the night of the super moon and neither of us said anything and whether or not it’s pathetic that I still wonder if you saw me too. Can someone please tell me why I keep running into the people I don’t want to see or is this just what six years can do. Now my ears are ringing with ‘what were the odds’ like my subconscious has a voice and is using it to whisper rhetorical questions from the back of my brain to the center of my eyeballs.

Doesn’t this remind you of losing a bet but one in which nobody wins or was that too dark. If you really knew me you’d know I hate gambling and I wasn’t even trying to gamble that night unless leaving the house qualifies. Do you think this means it’s time for another move? You can let me know. Now I’m back on the corner of 7th and 12th thinking about the fastest way to my apartment but the thought feels impossible when all we’re talking about is 2.5 blocks. Did you know most accidents happen less than one mile from the home?

If you need me I’ll be counting the inches and feet it’s going to take to get me back. Praying for a more anonymous route if there is such a thing. Perhaps one without the possibility of a misstep like the one I took into the pothole connecting 7th Avenue east to west. The crosswalk intersecting ‘my’ Duane Reade do you remember the one? How would I know if you saw my quick save unless I asked is it too late to ask? I thought about texting you something like, hey did you see the moon tonight because that seemed platonic and timely enough but then my phone died at 23% and I took that as a sign.