How I Wish We Met
Meet cutes instead of dating apps.
I keep dreaming about how I meet you.
You’re the love of my life.
It’s obvious to me.
The scenarios of how we meet run wild through my mind.
I see each one with such clarity, as if this story has been told before.
I’m shopping at Trader Joe’s, and we reach for the same snack.
Our hands touch over a block of cheese. It’s the wine cheese. You know the one. A Toscano soaked in Syrah.
“It’s the best cheese ever,” you proclaim. I agree.
“I’m addicted,” I tell you, glancing into your hypnotic eyes, with a long embarrassing pause before I add, “…to the cheese.”
You chuckle, your eyes dart downward, and you flip your hair behind your ear.
You notice the wine and crackers in my basket. “Looks like someone has a fun night planned.”
“Just my usual sort of evening,” I say with just a hint of loneliness. I try to communicate my thoughts to you. I wish I had someone to share a cheese plate and a bottle of wine with. That could be you!
“We have the same diet,” you joke before asking, “Is that wine good? I’ve never had it, but…
