“I...” I want to say it was good to see her. I want to say far more than that. I want to ask what she’s doing here, how long she’s in town, how her family’s been, if she’s finished her degree, what she’s doing next. I want answers to all the questions I’ve lain awake wondering about on more nights than I’d ever admit to anyone. She’s not the girl I knew, but that girl is still in there somewhere, and as I stand here in this grocery store with what feels like miles of space and a couple watermelons between us, I ache to find her again.
