I looked up as you entered the café. Your hair fell over your shoulders like a waterfall in a nature documentary. Or a shampoo commercial.
It was love at first sight.
You sat down at the table next to mine, took off your coat and I admired your pink sweater. You looked up and our eyes met. You smiled. I smiled back. We both looked away timidly.
It was dating at first sight.
Although you were pretty in pink, I imagined you yet more stunning in white, as you walked down the aisle. Towards me. Towards our merry matrimony. We would be so happy together.
It was marriage at first sight.
As you looked over the café, I took a sneak preview of your profile. Your nose would go well with my eyebrows. We would have beautifully symmetric children.
It was family at first sight.
You ordered a cup of coffee and brought it to your lips. I imagined you on our terrace in the suburbs, drinking coffee in the morning sun. We would get a puppy and call him Spencer.
It was dog at first sight.
And then, all of a sudden, you diverted your gaze toward the door. Your eyes lit up. You ran up to the man who had entered. A complete stranger. You embraced him. You engaged in a passionate kiss. How could you? How could you do this to me? To our relationship? To our beautifully symmetric children? To Spencer?
It was divorce at first sight.
