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I spot Steph walking towards the park. She’s incredibly

beautiful in a pair of dark skinny jeans, a yellow t-shirt, and

black flip flops. Simple. Understated. The most gorgeous

human being in the world. Her dark hair is down in loose,

wind tossed waves, and I can see people’s heads swivelling

around to look at her as she walks past. She doesn’t notice.

I’m already so nervous that I feel like I could thro

w up.

I feel weird about sitting at this park for little kids when I

don’t have a little kid with me. Thank goodness there aren’t

any kids here. Or parents. I feel like they’d already be sitting

in silent judgement, evaluating me to see whether I’m a creep

or not.

I’m sitting on one end of the bench. I’ve left lots of

room for Steph. I know what this is about. It’s about closure.

What better way to end something than right where we started

it?

Stephanie walks over, her flip flops making snap-snap

noises. She sits down, arranging her black shoulder bag in her

lap. She sets her hands on top of it. I can tell she’s slightly

nervous just from her body language. She hunches forward a

little, protectively. She looks good, though. Not a wreck. Not

sad. Her eyes are as dark and sparkly as any night sky. She

looks like she’s had enough sleep. No bags under her eyes, no

tired lines, no dark circles. When she smiles at me, it’s gentle

and natural. She looks like she could break into easy, carefree

laugher at any second.

I’m glad she looks good. That she’s healthy. But at the

same time, it’s slightly insulting. I know what we had together

was extremely brief. To other people, maybe they’d laugh