The One That Got Away

He'll always be "the one I had to let go."

And maybe I'll always be "the one that got away."

Am I supposed to keep hoping?

I feel like I'm in a bad romance movie.

Purple Heart Panda Hat

Written at 8:30a.m., February 28th, 2012 @ McDonald's in Seattle

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The crying girl next to me (can she really be called a girl?) burst out in sobs every few minutes. The bright white flower contrasts with her dark, dark hair and blotchy red face. Shouldn't she be in school? Her black backpack sites next to her, inconspicuous and seemingly unused. Her pink tattered sweats cinched high above the the black sneakers reveal the length of white cotton socks that shields her ankles. The plastic bag underneath the table is filled with food stuffs trash and lays silent by the quarter-full bottle of soda [and hope].

As she calms and unzips her bag, a panda hat with purple hearts bursts free and speaks of her innocence. The dirty and worn clothes that follow tell another tale. With her back turned to all but me, she blunts her pain and hides it from the rest. I cannot help but stare from the corner of my eye, wishing I could utter more than the sigh that inevitably escapes my lips but is lost in the overwhelming surf of society.