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 a 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 a family at first sight.
You ordered a cup of coffee 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 a dog at first sight.
And then, 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 symmetric kids? To Spencer?
It was divorce at first sight.
